You would not recognize my soul as me
for she is much more out spoken
and she runs free
my deep brown hair, as deep as the pain i feel in my heart, torn
was black when i was first born
but has lightened over the years
my skin sickishly pale, even against my tears
my soul, her ghostly skin is a bright white just the same
and still speckled by freckles
but she is not half as tame
her mane, dyed the brightest red
like blood
with midnight streaks
to show the part of me that lie dead
she still wears black Converse
with t-shirts with nasty verses
shes not afraid to flirt
or be treated like dirt
like i am used to
she walks the halls
proud and tall
not caring
not wearing a scowl to ward off others
shes not afraid to speak her mind
she just does not care
does not feel
and yet that nothing that burs deep she still feels
have you seen my soul?
i need her to return
inside me
so that together we can heal
