–3/5–
She speaks, I listen and stare in wonder,
Poised, a whim of the moment,
Why can’t I see that this is me?
She is a voluptuous figure, curves back then mistaken to be extra pounds,
Beautiful and alluring, très étonnante, c’est moi,
The day has arrived, a whole new woman,
A free spirit, ready to delve in new beginnings,
The sad memories of the past have been shattered to pieces,
Hope for the future, is in her that I see and admire,
She has seen the best in me, helping me to my feet
But, why can’t I see that she is I?
She watches her muse, and I listen to my teacher
She claps and out of exhilaration screams at me, she is proud.
The lonesome nights will be no more, gloomy mornings have been replaced
It’s sheer bliss, he that couldn’t see the good in me, she has seen
She is I, C’est moi,
Ponder I may, but I know better, now that she is here
I’ve been cradled for long; I woke up a new woman
I kick my heels off,
Sway my body side to side,
Hugging my curtains, serenading my wall paintings,
There’s desperation to go on,
*THUMP*!
Falling down to the carpet, I can’t help but laugh at myself.
Boy oh boy, what now!
bowendiaries 