She feared so many: monstrum repundium maximum, pistris nutabilis grandis, inmanitas neqior animas and many, many more…
And each and everyone one has changed her, just as love can do.
And as the monsters from her childhood closet crawled their way in, they bitterly twisted her pureness into poison. They blurred her vision, incorporated her sight, so when she perceived her own reflection she just saw them in other peoples’ eyes.
Parasites that thrilled off her anxiety and ate her self esteem. Leaving her hollow heart empty with drained dark dust whilst stuffing innocent thoughts with rich rejection.
They stole her appetite by toxically digesting her will to live. Laughing and mocking her attempt to ostracise them with his love. Oh Sweet jungle boy, bitter concrete man...
All the soft smooth shapes of nature turned into sharp lines, harsh heartless harassment. Cold, distant and impersonal as city life, he send her to exile to fight her monsters alone.
With sand, rock and leave as her only companions now. Loyal honest and faithful friends in whom she might find her equal. A loneliness much more pronounced then being alone, as she had to fight herself. The most daunting of all demons, who stared back at her through a mirror of malice; dismorphia.
Alone in the deep dens of the dark forest she had to face her demons. A weaponless wandering warrior, armed with nothing but the ratio of her curves, a toothless bite, against the vile mouthed creatures, hissing and whispering behind their infinite lines of tusks.
No shields, no walls, no armour, no shelter, no comfort, no signs of home.
Poor lost little maiden, being homeless and without a home.