She has forgotten how to

feel unafraid.

Her chest, a paradox

of heavy weight

and emptiness,

beats a drum roll into her head;

Patterned phrases reinforce --

what she always knew –

she is not pretty enough

she is not exciting enough

she is not worthy.

The child inside is reborn into

the terror of rejection.

Marooned by her own passivity and fear,

she studies her face and accepts

that life will continue to ebb and flow

around her, in spite of her.

She has discarded her dreams

as she once discarded

cellophane wrappers and empty cups

while the final credits cascaded

down the screen.

A single tear drops to the

mirror in her compact.

She brushes away its trail,

and applies the façade

known to the world.