Divided by who she is and must be,
Complicated beauty, spinning.
Broken trust, yet willing to thrive,
Found from somewhere deep inside.
Torn between suffocating her color,
And accepting that which brings her life.
A painted essence you can see,
One she’ll deny continously.
You’ll want to rescue her, catch her,
Have the hand she leans towards first.
Know she’s twirling effortlessly,
Used to living sublimely,
Dedicated to using what’s hers,
Independence, her curse.