She dares the laughing man’s face,

wide grin and piercing eyes,

as he gleams down through her soul.

She dares not scream,

lest the horror within her

be the cause of her family’s cries.

As a tender tear rolls down her cheek

she remembers that her past has made her,

so the ignorance of few

does not outweigh the strength within her.

This strength carries her through her days

so that the ignorance of a few

does not outweigh

who she knows she is;

a goddess among rivals,

and a fighter among mere survivals.

But although the past may be the past,

that does not dismiss her pain.

Day, after excruciating day she sees her past

staring back at her through a mirror;

an image of something so horrifying

too terrifying to see,

created out of something too unspeakable

for her memory to hold close.

Her scars have healed,

and the therapy moves on.

And although the ignorance of a few

does not outweigh the strength she has,

she hides her face beneath a simple pink satin scarf,

lest her pain be the cause of her dismay.