Sometimes it seems as though this world holds me back
And sadly i can't help the way I feel 
I live behind a painted face 

This face haunts me 
She stalks her way into my mirror 
And I see her painstaking portrait morph into my own
She is my other half 
She is my blanket 
My muse 
 

She followed me around the ripe age of seven 
It's around the time I developed a disease
she planted
I grew
She bloomed
We became the same
Yet so different 

One day she will see