She cries a voice that longs for belonging,
Hoping for an acceptance she never once felt,
She swims in a pride she never really owned,
Hoping that she'd be drenched in waters that never really existed,
Hoping that someday, someone will see her.
Hoping that someday, she will find her hands.
The illusions that she owns,
The life that she breaths,
Always filled with the bliss of ignorance,
Always filled with the bliss of innocence.
But of course, she doesn't really know,
Or does she?
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