Filth

    All she felt was filth as she walked on and on, to no place in particular. She couldn't bear to look up, thinking everyone knew and their stares were out of disgust, believing that which was not so. Little did she know that they were in complete awe of her for all they could see was great beauty, not the rot she felt within. The rot that was wasting her away.
   The fallen star. The unchosen one. She couldn't seem to cleanse the monster of her soul within or ease the pain to rid the hate and self-loathing. She wished she could go back, just back to that  innocence she can no longer keep, that perfection she can no longer reach, for all she felt now was filth.