She walks masked, meandering,

unacknowledged through her neighbourhood

Wishing earnestly that she somehow could

share her true self

 remove the make-up painted veneer

she hangs nightly on a shelf

how emancipated she would feel

no longer enslaved within her mind

because of this facade

strangers think her, the vapid kind

no thoughts of value

within her head, you'd find

no reason to approach her

glances fleeting and expertly timed 

no one knows

she was a prodigy

no one knows

the person she'd be

if not for the abuse and the C-ptsd

The world judges and no one cares

no one knows

how tirelessly she works to remain there

isolation doesn't help her plight

locked inside

void of sight

she'll never see

never realize

that her people, her clan are out there

if only she'd open her eyes.