black hole stare, rape victim signs, cerebral violation, you can see it in her wardrobe. you can hear the echoes in her head. you can read it on her face. symptoms drawn out in the magic-marker of social interaction. you can barely hear her inside. so small and quiet. but it is a scream, the disquieting nature of this voice. imprisoned in the epoxy and krazy glue of makeup and mall rat droppings. her brain washed of contentment. there is no happy here. MTV and Seventeen are her moral compass. she will never be the same. peace love and marination...