Underneath

She is standing in my skin, dancing joyfully

She wears my face with a painted smile

She speaks sweet comforts to those who do not know

She is meek for the man who demands her life be for him and loves her best when she obeys

She is strong for burdens that the hurt thrust upon her

She is as an arrow for the family whose fears she holds

She is an empty well

She is a broken frame that holds a torn portrait of a child long gone

She is merely but an echo now

And I am here watching, wondering if they will ever notice that she is not me.

~lmd