A blend of threads
Complex
Yet dead
Intertwining
Mingling
A braid on her head

She's young
Yet old
In mind
She's bold
Young girl
I could've told
Her
"Don't lose
that fierce sense
of self."

But she's gone
Moved on
Dismissive
She's become
It's like
Her identity
Was sold.

No more
Will she know
Who she is
She's only told
Things that don't make sense in her head.

She's lost.