The Fat Ballerina Diaries

With cotton candy hair, soft and lush. Black as the night and often up in a ballet bun. She hid her, chinky eyes that were spaced evenly apart with perfectly plucked eyebrows shaped into a deceivingly perfect arch that followed the curve of her almond-shaped chocolate-colored eyes in a faint expression. She often writes about beauty because she was never one, no one had ever called her beautiful before and she knows that beauty that is seldom seen, hides within the depths of her soul. Often she would wish that she was willowy like all the ballerinas that she sees walking around the room, but her form was unlike all the other girls in that room, she was short and stout and stood out because she never did belong. But her grace embodied her every move, her pirouettes and turns occupied the entire room and that was okay. But it was never enough, she was still an outcast in her own little world.