Her

Filling in the shoes, a size too big,

balancing the ways through life.

The comforter, the naive,

never have I had that charm.

To you, she is impeccable,

your heart, so forgiving.

Envious I am of what I see,

I am not her, never for you.

I am not her, never for me,

she is smart, she is mysterious,

I have no reservation to what I think.

Giving out too much, too soon,

Not just my thoughts,

but also my dreams and prayers.

I weave my world, a spider around you,

You, my dear were a butterfly, you flew away.

Never did I see how wrong I was not to see,

that she, a queen bee, and I, a venomous creature.

She, the woman of your dreams, your nightmares and your past, just Her everywhere.

For you, she seems perfect. For me, “I am just not her”.