D-F-O

She walks down a busy street, Pushing through the crowd. Headphones in her ears, Angry music playing loud. Hair is short and messy, Black nail polish is chipped. Combat boots thump loudly, Goodwill jeans are ripped. Eyes are rimmed with coal, And studs hugging her hips. She knows people are talking, But she couldn't care less. Their disapproval thrills her, She is amused by their jests. She grins at every passersby, Who stares with pure disgust. Her confidence leaves them speechless, Their judgement turns into dust.