I feel outside of my skin
as if I am looking onto a scene.
Déjà vu and realistic
though a different me.
Someone I should know
but find myself struggling to
recognize.
How can it be that she
used to be me – used to
share such likable qualities?
And yet, here I stare and
wonder where did the light go?
So morose, depression set upon
those chocolate eyes,
bruised purple and sadly baggy
with no other cause
than life itself.
I feel outside of my skin
wondering when I can
try it on again?
When can I see how much
baggage I have lost?
Will I be a size or two
smaller?
Will I fit comfortably
in my own skin?
as if I am looking onto a scene.
Déjà vu and realistic
though a different me.
Someone I should know
but find myself struggling to
recognize.
How can it be that she
used to be me – used to
share such likable qualities?
And yet, here I stare and
wonder where did the light go?
So morose, depression set upon
those chocolate eyes,
bruised purple and sadly baggy
with no other cause
than life itself.
I feel outside of my skin
wondering when I can
try it on again?
When can I see how much
baggage I have lost?
Will I be a size or two
smaller?
Will I fit comfortably
in my own skin?
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