She sits
She stares
She looks at everyone, everything, anything,
She can’t help but be like everything
She is self-contained, self-restrained, self-conscious,
She is wary
She wants to let go, of her inhibitions, limitations, expectations
She wants
She needs
She fills the room, a girl among many
She whispers, why now, why me
She sees nothing in herself that she doesn’t see in others
She is a part of a cohesive whole
She looks about
She wonders
She realizes
She’s an artist, a realist, a pessimist, an intellectual, a relationship seeker, a sensitive soul
She is, she can, she will be anything,
She is shaped by everything, but ruled by nothing
She is, herself
She is, herself
She, like so many, walk the earth
She, like so many, live a privileged life
She could have lived a different life
She could have been anything—a weeping willow, a souring snowflake, a daring dog, a confident cat, but
She wasn’t
She is a person, a woman, an impressionable being
She lives a life of twists and turns, bends and hurdles,
She’s had her hopes crushed, sprit lifted, dreams re-awaked
She feels, needs, yearns,
She is important
She is unique
She is herself.