The girl in the puddle
Looks like a woman
Maybe the ripples
Warp my view-
Maybe not! But
I can't see clearly, anyway.
Her smile
Kind of looks like mine
Her longing ties strings to my heart
And pulls; I want to love her
Someone should.
She's been alone too long
Been at home too much
Been a *****
To get along with.
I see her again in the window
Of a shop; stalking me.
I can't escape her.
I want to leave her
Need to please her
Who is she, anyway?
I ask,
But she won't reply
I take,
And she does not give
She throws,
Still I do not catch.
I pick a flower
Bend over a pond
And place it behind her ear-
She does not thank me,
But-
Her smile
Kind of looks like mine
I wrote this during my last stay at a psychiatric clinic where I was challenged to write more positively about myself.