Her ways seem flawed to those who don’t know her. Here comes judgement, gerunds tearing her down.
Her bones skinned bare, her scars now visible. That translucent skin evaporating amidst the grotesque.
Yet she recalls the words her lover spoke, her vow to never lose herself. “Never be broken”, he said.
Her body trembles, quivers from within.
Nevertheless she fights, bleeding as she goes. “Find yourself”, he instructs, though the enemy calls him your foe.
She stands upon a rock with a sword steadily in her right hand. Her spine now anchored, her belt on tight.
“Look, she is perfectly flawed, beautiful inside and out”, he proposed.
This is who she is, made of alabaster stone.