Have you ever tried putting on make up passionately after literally crying buckets of tears? She just did. It was just an ordinary day but she did the make up with contours on her nose and her jawlines, highlights on her brow bones, inner eyes and cheekbones on top of the blush on her cheeks, 3D-penciled her eyebrows, matt-coloured her lips and of course, nailed her winged eyes. She felt the fire in her heart and soul burning intensely it could start a wildfire. Then she smiled. A fierce smile. She told herself she cannot afford to lose herself – the fighter queen in her. The queen was not born a queen. She was made a queen because of the many fights she has won. So she put on the make up not because she is taking a pitstop. Pitstops are for the indecisives, the imbeciles who believe that they have plenty of time. She put on make up because she is still going to face the world, with her made up face and head up high, no fucking matter what. Because she is not that same woman anymore.