As these maniacal necessities suddenly, singularly cease to be, one per each per hidden fallen entity, she begins to feel…
A feel for things.
to meander her way in-and-about, in-and-around this heavenly brush-stroked place again

And, seemingly so, for the very first time in a cutthroat, remotely controlled life.
Indeed, for this has been
a trying kind of unkindly time, wherein the seething warlords of destruction have come at her with wicked wings sketched sickeningly on upon – and breathing like a crazed wildfire, a dime a dastard dozen

and terrifically thunderous for their whole entire distasteful worth.
All of it hurts, has to have done. And she finally reawakens herself to sizeably realise and to savour

And suggestively see, that a way out from blundered beneath this brutalised, self-made mess shall have to be…
Uniquely, demonstratively, downright inspirationally unearthed and at rapturous pace – the truth of her utterly untouchable driven-to-win individuality rising to the clasped-at fore,
invitingly, inevitably.

once more.

A ludicrously fabricated-from-fiction, rather telling thirst
for one life which has forever been begging to rightfully belong

To reconfigure itself outright righteous again

and for it to be,
undeniably, preposterously, unshakably reckoned with
yet again.

She is – hell, hell, HELL-BENT upon utterly fantastical, fantasised and fuelled reconstruction of one fallen girl.
Who proceeds to wear her one-of-a-kind pearl-diamante design

A million silken onslaughts caught by a magician’s sleeve
One of a kindly kind, indeed, and she will continue to continuously breathe fair vivaciously aside top-drawer re-aware.

This. Is. The. Comeback. To. Outshine. Creative. Comebacks.

Ladies and gentlemen, please reconvene and bring with you your favourite strawberry-incensed champagne flutes… And let these hidden abilities bristle to breathe

Meet her for reckoning, please

She’s been meaning to be.
comfortably everything

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