white hot heat

Why.

She was a prime example of perfection, but sometimes it just cannot be seen.

Red lips.
Hair full of volume, you'd think she slept with beer cans in her hair.
The fragrance of summer fruit and cherry blossoms carried her everywhere she stepped.
Eyeliner swept across each lid. Waterproof. Even though it was not tough enough to stay through the saltiest of tears.


That was what was on the outside. What mattered, of course was what went on inside
of her
big heart
caring nature
maternal touch to everyone



The idea of rejection gave her a feeling of white hot heat that pulsed deep down in the pit of her stomach and exploded into her heart, burning up the muscular fibers into black ashy soot of crushed emotion.