She wonders when she became so weak.

She stares at her reflection and wonder where it all went wrong.

Purple and blue bruises mark every corner of her face, red strike marks that cannot be hidden.

A shadow of the person she used to be.

Weak, hopeless and lost.

Or is she?

What defines weakness?
What defines being hopeless?

You call her weak because she cries herself to sleep.
But yet, she wakes up everyday and faces it all again.
She ignores the sly remarks, the whispers when she passes and looks the world in the eye with a smile.

You call her hopeless because she refuses help.
It is because she knows it is her own fight.

How can she be weak when she is able to stare all life has thrown at her in the eye and still manage a smile?

How can she be weak if she is so strong?

Purple and blue bruises mark every corner of her face, red strike marks that cannot be hidden.

She stares at her reflection and wonders where she learned to make the wrong right.

She wonders when she became so strong.