The Ghost of a Girl In Me

In the mirror do I see, A slight form unfamiliar to me, Thoughts and feelings not my own, Selfish desires I do not condone or wish to be. Alone. Just my reflection and me. Through the swirling mist and fog I see, The ghost of a girl in me. Wailing and cawing to escape I would answer… If only I could wake. The condensation is a misty breeze, Through gaps I see a pair of green, wild eyes Startled, they glare, but I fail to recognise. The mist slips through, between my fingers into the ether, Forever to remain a mystery. I stare emptily at the dimming eyes now full of melancholy. I feel an urge to put my hand to hers. Her touch is cold, My hand leaves a print, Disrupting the unity of the condensation. Her smile is weak, But welcoming, nevertheless. I stare blankly, Unable to comprehend, This ghost of a girl in me. Her features are soft, Her eyes forgiving, Despite their timed look and rough edges. She sighs. She knows. Suddenly I’m not so alone. She understands, Though I’m not sure I understand what it is that she understands. She is knowledgeable with doubt, Foolhardy with caution, Brave with trepidation. And me? I am empty. I am what she begged me to be: Thoughtless and free. Though I know her tears and pain to be real I stare now at her in envy As I yearn only to feel. Oh, ghost of a girl in me despair, Oh how she wishes she were me, Thoughtless and free, And I, Wholeheartedly. Wish that I were her.