She keeps her distance,
Not in the way you think—
Not about her clothes,
Not about the silence she wraps around herself.

It’s in the way she moves through the crowd,
Unmoved,
While the world tries to pull her in.

Her smile is sharp,
Barely there,
Like she’s holding back
Just enough to make you wonder
What she’s hiding,
What she’s not giving.

She’s done letting people take
Without offering something real in return.
She’s learned the power
Of keeping her cards close,
Of making them beg for a glimpse.

It’s not about shame—
It’s about control,
About taking what’s hers
And not giving a damn
Who thinks they deserve it.