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Tuesday, December 5, 2017

The Lonely Heart

The dapper girl looked blankly at the room around her. The slight rosy tinge that colored her cheek was a stark contrast to her pale skin. Her heavily-lined eyes and the red, red lipstick added even more shock of color. Yet she still looked so fragile, so innocent.

The glittering hairpiece on her thin blond hair, the glamorous curls that accentuate her face and leaving her neck bare opened, all carefully put together to enhance her features and tantalized her audience. She was a masterpiece, a diva, a star. 

Yet she pulled her thick fur coat even tighter around her, hiding the shiny expensive dress she wore underneath it. One arm beneath the coat, and another grasping the opening of the coat desperately, as if it was a shield that protects her from the evil outside.

The crowd was there, she knew it. She could hear them calling out her name, feel their energy and excitement. Even in the most hushed parties, she could still see them eyeing her, approving her, adoring her. She's seen it all. She knows it all. 

But the coldness was still there, the hole that no one understands. The chance meeting with her long-gone ex-lover opened up the abyss inside her. What if she could pull it through? What if they didn't separate? Why won't, can't, he loved her back?

Deep inside the shards of the knife still exist, the cold sharp blade that turned her heart into ice. At times her heart will be filled with glow and warmth that she'd forget that the shards existed, and other times she was struck down by them, sent to the debilitating coldness.

Guilty till proven innocence, she whispered. A grimace ran across her face, a painful reminder of the abyss inside. The beautiful eyes tainted with a wild, desperate expression. Trust no one, she chanted. Trust no one. Beneath the exquisite look a beast ready to spring.

"Miss Daisy!" someone called, "Are you ready??" The door opened and a gentleman walked in, arms covered in fiery orange roses, her favorite. Her assistant scrambled to gather the roses from him, and her makeup artist run inside to gave her the finishing touch.

Her gentleman bent over and kissed her cheek ever so slightly, sending a shiver down her spines. "You look lovely," he murmured. She blushed prettily and smiled with excitement, and one can barely notice the wildness in her eyes or the cold empty abyss inside.

"Miss Daisy!" They called her again. She touched his cheek gently with her gloved hand and saw passion sparked in his eyes. She smiled. He too, shall pass. She rose from her sofa, letting her fur coat fall, and stood with grace. It's time. The world is her stage, and she'll take it by storm.

"Will you still love me
When I'm no longer young and beautiful?
Will you still love me
When I got nothing but my aching soul?"

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