Cracked
The seeker, never sought.
Alone, iced, distant,
even when she tries to
warm herself by the fire
of trying.
A lone wolf but only
as a last resort.
The chant echoes in
her wired brain.
“Weird. Obscure. Fake niceties.
You are not welcome, not really.”
Tolerated for show.
Smiles but porcelain.
A sigh of relief
when she is gone.
She asks herself
“Why me?”
Not in a piteous way
but in a way that stirs curiosity
and, in truth, self-doubt.
When she stops,
the masks crack,
revealing the hideous decay
she was terrified was always there.
