-Barbed

[Words to Image]

Izzabella was beautiful. She was praised by many and loved by all. Everyone desired to be around her. But Izzabella didn't love herself. She spent a childhood distant from the men in her life. She felt like they had always let her down. These feelings of sadness and questions of why molded her into the woman she would eventually become. She found strength in turning her heart from the soft warm instrument that fed her life and housed her happiness into a hardened vessel of stone which carried everything men did to her, then, into adulthood, as to make them all pay for it, now. No man was exempt from her silent wrath. They came one, they came many. Each time they came with good intentions, dreams, and a desire to create an unbreakable union of souls. But Izzabella was already broken.

First, she would lure them in with beauty, promises, and false hope. She meticulously played the part, and played it well, until she had complete control over their hearts. Once she knew she had them, she allowed the Izzy to come forth. The angry, selfish Izzy that ruled at the core of who she really was, was now given permission to take point. To tear and grind away at the very fabric of their goodness. To stomp it out and laugh at their feeble efforts. Good men tried to survive this metamorphosis ... but failed. Good men who loved, watched in horror as they saw pieces of their very hearts die, and never trust again. Good men who had promised to stand by her forever ... fell. Good men suffocated by the wrath of Izzy. Good men who held the curtain back, so others were never aware of this alter ego. They protected the one they loved. But there was no protection for them. Good men paid for every crime of those who came before them. And the ones that followed would pay for theirs.

Izzabella lived in a world of self-doubt. Her heart was insecure. Her love was calculated. Her world was pain and each day she walked through it with a mask on, to conceal the path she had chosen. She opted to allow her early emotional trauma to carry over into every aspect of her life, now. Damn the fallout. Damn the casualties. Damn the stone vessel which housed no empathy. It was better off that way. Right?

Izzabella walked through a maze of hatred for men, daily. She had no desires to change.

I mean, why change when they are all the problem? Right?