Hollow she preens.
Forever correcting herself before her own glass ceiling.
Like routine examinations throughout the day to ensure she is in working order.
Though she is falling apart.
Hair is too flat and makeup runs away.
She is beautiful.
I could never bring myself to tell her.
Though I long for her to know that she and I do not see eye to eye.
Yet, she is the apple of mine.
So we'll both remain in misery.
And miles apart.