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.
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.
Though I’m not sure I understand what it is that she understands.
She is knowledgeable with doubt,
Foolhardy with caution,
Brave with trepidation.
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,
Wish that I were her.
Copyright © Rebecca Huxley | Year Posted 2017