I am not a portrait

“She left.
She realized she didn’t belong there, and so did them.
She turned her back
and walked away.
What she didn’t know
is that you never turn your back to growling dogs.
Sure enough, when they saw her back,
her weak, harmless back,
they attacked.
Because nobody walks away on its own.
Not like this.
Not here.
Without apologize, whit no sorrow,
no reverence.

And so, they attacked.
From the back, hidden in her shade.
She felt it,
from the skin towards the soul.
What they didn’t know,
is that she was playing another game,
different rules, different goals.
She felt their hate,
and yet couldn’t stand it.
She had business to mind.
She forgot etiquette,
she forgot her role,
her lines.
She wrote them herself.
And that, that was her sentence.”

Paola