She wonders if behind her bubbly exterior anyone can truly see her. Her reflection still lingers in the mirror but as she gets nearer it becomes an unrecognisable figure.

Conflicted, constricted as her life is restricted to the kitchen.

Her starsign was on the dotted line of this contract, not to be lived out as Taurus but for us! Them and a community that's idea of unity is spreading rumours about other families between sips of tea.

Sitting head in hands, these boundaries are bound to be the end of me is all she sees.

But this is my life! Why the continual strife? May as well pick up that knife on the side left from breakfast, better act fast and cut me, cut me deep, put me to sleep, Cause I can't walk this path, the one you lay before me.

The red carpet that fades to pink as it's left in the rain. The most I can hope for is the same in terms of my pain, that it erodes as I rust, become a husk of what I was and instead of tread that path, haunt it.