Poetry

Untitled

Would you believe me if I told you who I started out as?
No stranger to this person for I know every time I look into my reflection that she's looking back at me.
They say not to look back but I know she'd want me too.
I never let her die because I needed her.
I needed someone but there was no one.
She was the one who not only remembers the pain but felt it.
She's drifted since then and rebelled but she returned.
She now sits in the back of my head picking up all the little things that keep me alive.
She isn't a optimist and she isn't particularly happy but she's the part of me that needs the most love.