The One

I like it when she looks strong when I know she is not. Because that, in a way and in essence, is strength.

When all seems wrong she keeps that frown and trying-to-be-sharp look on her face. She keeps her voice from trembling. She have trained her eyes well to do her bidding and not to betray her.

Her round eyes. I know them when something is wrong. They don't look bubbly nor sleepy.

This is her mask which I have known distinctly and loved. Not because its merely a mask. Not because it hides her face. That frail, weak, crybaby face.

It is the mask that I have seen through. And kept me to stay.



09/16/09 9:45p