'Bout bitches

The lipstick shouldn't be on her chin, but it is.

The mascara shouldn't be part of a smoky eye, but it is. No, that is a bruise.

The heels should be on her feet, not under the bed.

The dress should be on her, not in the corner of the room.

The light should be off not on.

She should be in her own bed, not in a foreign one.

The glass should be full with tea and lemon, not with cheap cold wine - outside it's winter and it's snowing as the fairytells are telling us it is snowing. She should be admiring that, but she is not.

The radio should play a slow blues, but instead it plays a loud rock.

She should be with her kids right now, but again..she is not.

She also should be hating this job, but in a not surprising way, she loves it.

She is a bitch, a whore, a slut, a prostitute, you name it.

She is the queen from a chess board that can be taken by any pawn.

She is the one who kneels for cheap.

The one that would say whatever the pawn wants her to say.

She is the one that would do whatever the pawn may command.

The one who is wearing high heels in the rain, in the snow and in the moments of fire in her life.

The one who doesn't go to her kids' school.

She is the one dressed like a decadent circus star: always in sparkly dirty dresses, always with make up on which is messed up most of the times.

She is the one that helps men cheat on their wives and she is the one the wives hate the most.

She is the black sheep.

She is the mistake in the society.

And she knows it.

And she owns it.

And she loves it.

She loves it as much as we love our judgment.

As much as we love our power of choice.

And almost as much as the christians love hypocrisy and morals. Almost, because that can not be surpassed - not even by the love of God.

She shouldn't.

But a lot of things are how they shouldn't be - and who's complaining in an honest, right way?