Patchwork People

there's this woman in my mind

She's pieced together from memories

ideas

and books I've gathered

thought

collected

She's strong

happy

nobody's fool

She's who I want to be.

but this woman

this patchwork person of my mind

is not who I am

I am not strong

I am not happy

I get played far too often.

Yet she is in me

screaming to be seen.

And on rare occasions

when the days have been too long

the nights too short

the hurt too much

she appears.

She saves me

when I cannot save myself

and then

with a whimper disappears

as I fix the damage my patchwork person

has left behind

She is who I want to be

but I will spend my life

cleaning her messes

and wondering why

I want to be her.