She stood outside of everything that moved and conversed.
Her mind talked to itself as her body crumbled.
She observed the hollow moving mouths and longed for tolerance.
Girls rendering themselves insubstantial in the hands of boys.
Héloïse had never been an imitator, always misguided, yet genuine,
She saw herself thrust into those overshadowed pseudo-feminine casts.
Her face gave in to all the lies that her body felt forced to live.
Her body did everything she asked of it and yet she wanted to shed
It desperately. Everything went wrong in her mind.
She lowered the standards of her friendships, reduced her value system and sold
Herself short, she became corrupted, demeaning herself and the skin she wore.
She had misplaced herself for people who would never look for her.
“Back of a nude” by József Rippl-Rónai (1861-1927)
Croque-Melpomene 