She

She is fire dancing in the moonlight. 

She keeps her moods tight like swings. 

Her thoughts are pressed down into nothing

Is what she believes she is. There is no name 

To plaster onto her body to taint her mind 

With whatshe is expected to be. She is 

Me, she is we. And she can sing. Together

We swing. Her voice is harmonious from the

Heavens, but she is no angel. She has soul but is 

No soldier. She rocks this world as it crumbles

Through her fingers. It precipitates down to the

Ground where she watches it fall to her feet. 

She is the destroyer and the creator as she pieces

The world back together. She throw sit up and

Catches it. She has the whole world in her hands. 

She makes plans and shakes them; she makes

Promises, but breaks them. She is no ordinary girl. 

She speaks freely not shyly because she is not 

Afraid. But she has fears which she communicates 

Through her tears. In the end, she is real.