I am not the woman I used to be.
She is bruised and broken, as far as can be
I am bruised and broken, numb to the world
I am deep in the heart of longing for myself
Old, new, recognizable, unknown
Different. From what I am today.
She is a stranger
Borrowing my skin to fill her anxious purpose
She sometimes protects, sometimes hurts
Shielding me from pain, filling me with pain
I am a stranger to myself
To levity, to joy
I hope only for a while.