I am searching,
let that be known.
Searching for a lost goddess,
nursing her ***** bottle.
I would recognize her,
even if she looked nothing like herself.
Because she would be
the one with her head held high,
even though she can barely walk.
She would be the one,
whom you thunk knows nothing of pain.
But think again,
or even better,
search for a bottle of ***** marked with red lipstick.
I was absent for some while, searching for myself as the poem says. Finally, i found the goddess.