Some days I am her.

Smooth skin and a bubbling laugh,

Echoing across a room; filling up the air.

She is kind and sure,

And sees the world as a problem to solve.

She is the world,

But more importantly she is her.


On other days,

On days like today,

I am me.

Unkempt hair and fleeting eyes,

A hollowness that bounces around my chest.

A weakly plastered smile,

Cracking at its edges.

My body is built of lead and stone,

And my thoughts are reckless;

From then I cannot hide.

The sun will rise and the sun will fall,

And still I will remain.

Nothing is impossible,

But living on days like today.


Why can I not be both her and me?

She and I?

Or even she and me?

Why is there such a divide that exists beneath my fragile skin,

Inside my chaotic mind?

How can she smile when tears prick my eyes?

How can I leave when she refuses to change her mind?

The lines begin to blur,

As the boundary becomes undefined.

In the eyes of a lover,

In the frown of a friend.

There is no space between us in the dark.

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