I've got so much to say
I just don't know how to articulate

I hope you won't mind the lack of form and structure
For I am new, born again as if from a case of dried palm leaves

My eyes open brighter
My skin's not so dull
I've noticed I can move freely, without disrupting a sleeping beast

The beast is my fear
But fear not, for I've cut off its ear

It snores so dull
It keeps me safe
from sunlight, moonshine, and the fog of today

Oh look, she's begun to rhyme
sort of
She speaks, and her voice chimes
sort of

She's just expressing herself, publicly
She don't care what you have to say or think
That little girl you oh so adored
because she followed your every whim
and disappeared when you wanted her gone the most

She's trying to change
But the sneers keep her down
the illusions from that beast
that she must please everyone

But not so much any more.
Now, not at all.
She dresses not in borrowed clothes, but wishes to sew them on her own
spikes and lots of them, but wear them with lace to remind them what you once were
"*******, please." She says with not a smile but a glazed look.
Because she don't ******* care.
So there.