She is Me

Curly, tangled, mess of hair flowing wildly about her head

As wild as her heart and free as her spirit by which she’s led

And just like her hair that she wouldn’t allow you to brush

Her visions are untouchable.

You don’t understand her, yet you never did.

But you admire the fire that burns in her eyes

Even when she shuts her lids.

You keep this picture of a brown sugar complexion girl

Stored in your mental locket

With eyes so wide and deep inside like pools of melted kiss chocolate .

Except she…is…ME.

Curly styled locks cascading down her back like crashing waves

Unpredictable and reckless, just as she is now-a-days

Her rebellious nature allures you and her knack for evasion

Drives you wild.

Almost sets your heart in flames, the same way when she smiles

You don’t understand her, yet you never did

But something keeps drawing you in

You yearn to subdue her free spirit like a caged bird

Then checkmate; you win.

This line stepper maddens you yet makes you crave her

You’re not sure if you want to save her or enslave her but you know

You have to cave her.

Only she…is…ME.

Curly hair straightened long and gorgeous dancing strands

Whipping through the air like her ideas; putting everyone in a trance

Enchanting word play and witty remarks.

This girl is no fool.

She reminds you of someone familiar; yes, she reminds you of you.

Head strong, driven and unable to be caught once she’s on the run

There’s no doubt that she’s just like you making it hard to get along.

You love her, but she’s destructive and refuses to settle down

You taught her street smarts and savior faire but you still

Worry when she’s not around.

Well she…is ME.

Me.

The girl.

The teen.

The young woman.

THE WOMAN.

The strongest kind. Standing before you.