The world was never at her fingertips,
No matter how some might have hoped.
The stars were close to grasp
But that was not enough.
The moon echoed her screams
Through a silent night - and no wind was blowing,
But some though it might.
She looked in the mirror
Not knowing what she'd see;
And as she dropped the glass,
The reflection showed me.
I was told the world was mine to conquer - silly me to think.
Yet as the days slipped to years,
My hopes turned to fear:
I'd never be the "She" they all wanted me to be.
I can only be me. Imperfect, tired, unequivocally me.
Inequivalent still, is She to Me,
As the world was in reach of my fingertips,
Destined for Me to conquer.
Destined for "She" to be Me.
Destined for "She" to be free.
GMP
03/26/2019
