The Unknown Among the Seen

 

The Stunna Sista

 

 

 

An intriguing mind, a brilliant mind, a fragile body, a fragile soul. Can one such as this exist in a world like today? Can one such as this truly express themselves fully?! One such as this, only see's what they want to see. They are open to anything to complete themselves. Anything; any and every feeling expressed to such an extent that could equal insane. Her; an intriguing mind, a brilliant mind, a fragile body, a fragile soul. She who is always wanting what she doesn't know of, and running from what she does. Pain shinning through her, through every aspect that she is created from. Through every erected fibered hair that hangs down, through her breathing in-an-out, through her faded eyes, over her down lips, and through the stunna's her lips obtain. Hopefulness creeping through her exterior while it can be seen, ever so slightly, sorrow trapped, lingering, and roaming inside.

 

I see that hunger for true happiness, even if it is only for a moment in this retched time. I see that hunger for that eternal understanding. I watch as she tries to find books and poetry to show the person she truly is. Her; always wanting a name for that one she is not. She who is her but not her, she who is the other version of herself. She who is that, that is within us all. That inner desired self. The one who is her feelings no doubt but those feelings that are secret, the forbidden wantings, the hidden self-confidence, the one we all wish we could be within ourselves. She who is the poison in each of us. She who is like chocolate to a dog, and Kryptonite to superman. That one who makes us split, unhappy, and internally captured.

 

Though many don't see as deep into this reluctant girl, I see the intelligence. I see that mind, that unexplored canyon of exploding creativity, that spark of genius. I watch that twitch down her arm and into her hand. That graceful movement of her fingers. The music that is being captured absorbed and inspiring that, that is untouchable. I see the book that is being read along the way, the words that are being written, that extraordinary possibility of a phenomenal future.

 

It's the beautiful, troubled, important asset that is in her presents. It's the confusion that is always lingering. Her emotions always wanting to bust out. It's how it is shown in the pressure on the lead, the size of the sentence, the length she took to write it. It's the stroke of the "E", the lope of the "G", and the dip of the "Y". It's the look on her face while the wheels turn, she's a prominent disaster. She who is one to us, but two to herself. One for us to respect and fear, love and hate, pity and admire. She is one for herself to both torture and the other to wish for. She who is that intellectual manifest that we can not compare to. She is that inconvenience we intolerably take care of. She who will always be apart of me. She who is the.....

  

Stunna Sista!

Reviews

[WoFer]

ahhh, this reads much more like a poem than a story. You have a great way with words.
But this is not your best peice. It is missing the strong message, and powerful words your other poems had.
I write an outline for my stories and then I write the story, you should always know where you are going so you can push the reader in the right direction.
Let me know if you want me to review anything else.