A Girl Like Me Poem by Ryann Holland

The sound of her brief sorrow cries are so embracing. The smell of her fears from behind the real her are genuine. I begin to wonder if she is really a person. Is she a human being? She shows no interest in life. She destroys it more then she lives it. She has done so many damages to her sweet sorrow body. The touch of her skin is rough and bumpy, from the scars and marks she has put there. She concentrates more on reality then life. She will never know the true meaning of life, just the meaning of death. The continuance of her cries makes my inner soul spur. Every time she is upset, I can feel her pain, almost as if I am her. In her eyes, all I can see is evilness waiting to explore the earth; I see it every time I look into the mirror. I can feel the vibes when she gets the feeling to commit violence, as if she is a monster that was created over night, a completely new person. I look at the scars on her arm. I can almost feel them, as if a blade has reopened the womb and released another speck of blood. I can feel the touch of the cold metal blade going against my skin, rupturing the suit that I was given to protect my bones and make me whole. I can almost hear the cries when I am sleeping, as if they are stuck in my head. I keep seeing an image of her in my head, and it’s like every move I make, I remember her. I think about the scars on her body, and I wonder if each scar hold a story. I can feel her eyes looking at me, as if she wants to be my friend. I sense that she is lonely, and has no one to turn too. I begin to think back, and realize that this girl is me. I see my reflections everywhere, as if the whole world is based beyond me.