Supplements for the wounded. Rejection, aggression, lies, they all seem to coherence throughout the veins of the wounded. Somewhere around this very nation you seek a new lie to be told by ones who claim they want to know the beauty beneath the highlighted areas. But the naked truth also known as beauty shows expressions filled with honesty, coated with the hint of their lies. What is the reward for dismembering a pure soul trying to find the truth between right and wrong? Hatred, envy, greed, a knowing mark that's left onto the body being imprinted to remind herself that no man is worth the time other the one who raised her to the best of his ability or the one who blessed her with the sight of acknowledgement. Chains rattling beyond the fortress of gratitude. Shackling the thought of giving into another. The terms "bitter women" suffers a long line of pain beneath the anger due to the long-lost lashing that put us there. Yes, we are bitter, because we weep at the silent thought of misery holding our company. Taking that pain creating several coins trickling at our feet from different hustles. Alone for the moment until a magnitude of strength embodies the presence of her complemented. To be alone holds a lesson within itself. Molding you to become humbler around your surroundings, telling you never fear the loss of others but shed a tear that they didn't get the chance to see who you are becoming.
YOU ARE READING
Forbidden Ode. Book One
ChickLitIts a game we once learned as a child to express the things you believe the most. No one never said that being a women in the eyes of others would create chaos of destruction.
