She
Is just like me
She
Is my age, smiles at the same jokes, cries at the same sad stories
She
Walks past me and in my mind I say
She
Is getting fatter why do I feel that I have a need to comment on what
She
Deems beautiful why does my mind run to the way her shirt fits tighter
She(ltering) me from my misperceptions of pretty
She
Is a human being filled with flaws filled with bones and viscera and
She(ll) fragments and so am I
She
Is
Me