I was beautiful once, or so they told me. I believed it for a time.
I was…necessary and relevant once upon a time. Albeit for reasons I would never quite understand until I came here.
That of course, is the folly of youth.
At least, at last-they saw me. I’d been trying to make them look for nearly 23 years.
They couldn’t see me. They wouldn’t see me. They refused to.
Dark skin, thick hair. Beautiful soul.
Beautiful soul. Black skin. Princess.
Somebody lied to me.
Pretty boys with their pretty lies.
I believed. I needed to.
But only for a time.
I know who I am.
My Power. My Pleasure. My Pain. 