That’s Not Me.
By Skye Falcon
See her there? Bright eyes and wonder. A hunger for learning and wants for love and fun. She longs for the days of beach balls and sun.
I’m not her. That’s not me. Okay. Maybe just a little piece…
See her there? Adjusting her shirt, covering her skin, constantly checking the mirror. Covering up blemishes. Reaching for smooth perfection.
I’m not her. That’s not me. Okay. Maybe just a little piece…
See her there? Standing on the scale, reading failure, and heaving the moment. Smiling through the hunger pains, size two looms in sight… her heart beats irregular, her body desperate to fight.
I’m not her. That’s not me. Okay. Maybe just a little piece…
See her there? Her mouth pressed to an ear, sharing with all what she did hear. No backbone or spine of her own, just gaining points off of others misfortune.
I’m not her. That’s not me. Okay. Maybe just a little piece…
See her there? Revealing clothes and multiple selfies by the day; desperate for the attention that glides across her skin. She’s lost, and standing in her own way.
I’m not her. That’s not me. Okay. Maybe just a little piece…
See her there? Desperate to settle. The black eyes are worth her every hassle. One broken heart is all it takes, to let in the betrayal, the beatings, and mistakes.
I’m not her. That’s not me. Okay. Maybe just a little piece…
See her there? Staring at the wall, fitting in with no one, feeling so small. No trust for the outreached hand- just pushing through the days as fast as she can.
I’m not her. That’s not me. Okay. Maybe just a little piece…
See her there? Raising the future- wondering if she has what it takes to fully nurture. Sleepless, broken, whole & full; Demands, needs, wants of others— No more. Her caravan trunk is full.
I’m not her. That’s not me. Okay. Maybe just a little piece…
See her there? Twisting her wedding ring in circles on her finger, oblivious to life. Tears flow, questions go unanswered, broken vows. Empty thoughts not worth the strife.
I’m not her. That’s not me. Okay. Maybe just a little piece…
See her there? Back against the cold table, gown open for all to see. Nothing left of her mere modesty. Silently wishing for miracles, or even for one day to be pain free.
I’m not her. That’s not me. Okay. Maybe just a little piece…
See her there? Tracing the lines on her face, wondering where time has gone. Old pictures scatter the walls of her mind, like memories from all those old songs.
I’m not her. That’s not me. Okay. Maybe just a little piece…
See her there? Praying on the cold stone. No memory can heal the wounds that life has wound so well. Feelings of love, memories of the past- the spirit lives on, inside her, and her heart flutters fast.
I’m not her. That’s not me. Okay. Maybe just a little piece…
See her there? Walking in the sun, rolling with all of life’s punches. Being responsible, getting shit done. Living life to the fullest, 100%- making no excuses, paying the rent.
I’m not her. That’s not me. Okay. Maybe just a little piece…
We as women are connected, as all humans are;
Our tears burn our cheeks, and our love often tears our hearts.
Stop your judgment, your animosity, your backstabbing ways,
Whether we’re white, black, or purple; straight, celibate or gay.
Stop tearing down, hating, and letting your jealousy reign,
Uplift, Support & Empower! Everyone gains!
Spread compassion, respect, love, empathy and loyalty,
And watch the good blanket the world, for everyone to see.
I know and I understand that everyone, and everything, is a piece of me.
~
This poem is Copyrighted to Skye Falcon and GoodTimes Publications, 2015© Copying or reproduction of these words in any way without written permission from the author is punishable by law. Author is crazy, and will pursue.
