i n f a t u a t e d

hidden

Perhaps you could call her shy
After all
She's only ever around him.
Gripping his ripped, muscled arm,
Her frail hands turning snow white,
Whiter than the purity he stole from her.

If only you knew
How much she resented holding that arm
And how much she craved leaving him and his dark grasp
Lingering in her shadows, the sickening feeling in her tummy never quite leaves,
Further intensifying
When she's alone with him.

The smile placed across her cheeks
Is forced
And stretched, paining her rosy, childlike cheeks

Of course, surely she knows the meaning of happiness
Isn't that what he displays to all the crowds that strain to hear hushed whispers?

Cool, calm and collected
But
Also frightening, heated and unsettling

The confident clicks she creates with fearless strides oppose the eggshells she avoids when tiptoeing throughout his house.

Smile and wave,
That's what she is told

When in reality,
All she wants to do is cry and run, never once glancing back behind her shoulder.

She was never told that this was love
If she were in love, she wouldn't be forever feeling alone and wishing to leave
Right?

In the fairytales she was told as a child, he is a knight in shining armour
And she the praised and unconditionally loved princess,
Who would live with her saviour forever,
Happily ever after.

If this is happy,
She would wish to be forever sad.
But
Unlike the facade she places everywhere, everyday,
She's already 30 ft deep in sadness,
Struggling to find a way out.

© stitch_has_a_glitch 2018