There she is, a complete mess,
Her head a tangle of thick tousled
tresses and thoughts.
She smiles through the pain,
Hiding herself from her heart,
Her lips smile but I can see through her eyes
That she is dying inside.
I think and think again what might be going
In that big fuzzy head of hers,
As I sit beside her, I look at her
The way a child looks at a puzzle,
I try to put it together but in vain
I still dont have all the pieces
God knows what goes on in that messed up brain.
Her laugh though, is as innocent as a kid playing under the summer sun.
She grins widely at me as I stand there perplexed
Comprehending the hidden meaning, the crypt, those deep wrinkles on the her cheek mean
She shakes her head, in sympathy, as if I were a cripple.
Blind to the elephant in the room.
I follow her, her mind, her heart,
Trying to trace all threads to a thought
Alas! They are intertwined and everything falls apart,
I finally find the idea which i had furiously fought.
She was not a puzzle to be solved,
Not a problem to be fixed
She was like salt waiting to be dissolved,
I watch her bewitched.
Who is she, you ask?
She is you and me,
The girl on the other side of the mirror,
The woman on the edge of the cliff.