She’s tall where I am not. Her hair flows curls like streams of black rivers. Her form more perfect than mine. Her lips perky, puckering in soft red petals. Her emotions rise and fall but she could never be wrong and could never be apart from fear. She answers first, she angers easily and throws the first fist in the air or any direction she could swing her perfect arms. She is my negativity, my enemy.
Fighting against her leaves me ragged, worn out and often times with depression (another nemesis for another time). I walk away from her screams and for a moment see the light. I draw my mind into the things that are good and filled with peace. She begins to starve. She stumps away and I can rest until we meet again.