This creature…
She lurks just round the corner
Her lips painted to perfection and pursed to prissiness
Her hips hosting hands, polished nails the color of Hell’s fire
Her eyes wild and dark, so full and deep, intricate curtains over the windows to her soul
Her hair cascading wild but under the chokehold of her need for control, constantly
And her entire existence… just

This creature…
She is a creature of the night, no doubt
But she is an essence of the broad sunlight
And she was designed to be the center of attention
But is simultaneously inclined to favor solitude
She craves affection, attention, validation, and such
But values her independence, her privacy so very much

This creature…
She knows no name.
She knows herself.