I smiled at this lady at a party where I saw many new faces. I wanted to do more. Maybe take the time to befriend her.
I did not, assuming my intent could be misperceived on the receiving end. I did not want her to mistake my friendliness as an offering of pity.
But I did want to know about her. How she got to this place and what had made her become this way. How does she make it through a day? What must her secret life be like. I wanted to know, yet it did not matter. I just wanted her to feel her self-worth.
She made me feel the rage against this world.
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