Happy Birthday to my cousin, Phuong!

Black mascara tears, but she cries in the dark.
In the abyss, unseen, nighttime never departs.
Alone but not lonely--whether this is true or phony, she keeps it secret.
Living fast and dying slowly; all past lovers have had cold feet, but nothing 'bout love makes her fear it.
Trust, the most unreliable friend, but she holds on even when all has come to an end.
Justice unachieved, for no one has made amends, but she's okay with having none over a million vain attempts.
Some call her bitter, even callous, but nobody knows there's warmth past the icy stare.
She don't believe in glitter or golden castles, but she's all for nicer things only if she deems it fair.
Played, tricked, and cheated--been all of those things, but she ain't ashamed.
See, she believes in karma, she just hopes that bitch stings 'cause if there's one thing she hates, it's making wishes in vain.
She's a soldier, who fights with indignation and pride; a dreamer who dares to aspire beyond given heights.
Big chip on her shoulder, and though it still resides, it helps to remind her to never stop until she flies.
Born out of love, bred out of pain; she is fearlessness and she is grace.
She's a pretty grenade; a dangerous spirit, with a beautiful face.