Just me

Do you ever have one of those days
when the girl in the mirror isn’t you?
The brown, wavy hair,
the glasses —
not you.
The girl who cried in the practice room —
not you.
Alienated from yourself,
you question your own identity.
Who am I?
Who is she?
What? You don’t have those days?
Oh, okay then.
It’s just me.


Gray Hope

When it’s raining leaves,
and the wind is my stylist
whispering things in my ear,
I feel like I’m in a fantasy novel.
And then, the gray skies prophecy not the end,
but the beginning.
My life is an adventure,
not a tragedy.