Disguise 180- 12 year check in

DISGUISE: 180

(12 year Check-In)

 

She was beautiful but not like a rose 

She was a storm on the horizon, The bump in the night 

She was easily mistaken for soft, because of her light 

Soft spoken when necessary, true to herself

One foot in front of the other 

Day by day. Step by step. 

 

Play and get played was part of her game 

Unapologetically herself and never ashamed 

You couldn’t bring her down, only she could do that 

You might think you’re in control, that’s part of her trap 

Hard on the surface, plush underneath

Don’t worry about her, she’s still on her feet. 

Some days she stumbles and others she falls

But remember the story, from back in Utah 

When she tore off the mask, no more disguise 

Why don’t you turn around and look hard in her eyes

That short slim brunette, Those eyes sometimes gold

The freckles and red lips, last cigarette and late night call

 

It’s too late for you now, in more ways than this 

She’s not to be mistaken for something you miss 

You ripped her to shreds, you watched her fall down 

But recall once again, she has her feet on the ground

 

Maybe sometimes unsteady, she trips over herself 

But not you anymore, she passed that life test 

She use to tell you, when you’d tear her down

That one day you'd get it all dished right back

And I’m here to tell you, this time it’s just that 

She holds onto the rails as she fumbles through hell

All the time she put into you, Her own home a fucking jail 

She’s been through more than a few years ago

But there’s so many things to remember you know 

 

When she walks she glows.

When she smiles she knows, exactly where she’s going to go 

She never moves without direction, She has her mind on clear perfection

 

At sixteen it was only her, but now she has kids 

So she wears the disguise, they don’t see her tears

Yes she still cries, those bloodshot eyes, 

Still listens to lies but she can’t deny 

When they go to bed, or when she’s alone 

The tears rip through the surface,

The disguise hits the floor.

It’s still my story, every day that I fight

There’s not much else to it,

 

I choose my life.

This poem is about: 
Me

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