SHE is not ME

I remember me....the me that could poetically express every emotion in such a way that it was an embrace...to my inner soul...the side that has been repressed and now found depressed without inspiration...no admiration in loving arms...so cold...lost...found light and warmth in forbidden touch...raced back to ruins and find love...She seems so different...untouched and angelic but the truth is...me...is dark...no shades of grey...just black or white...no combination to soften...the inner heart is gothic...but she...she is light and sunny disposition having...always smiling and sweet, silver lining grabbing...but me...is deep...with wrath and rage that stands on platforms with tight fist, microphone in hand...raising the ancestors in lost dance with wide set hips...She...is common and mediocre, shapeless, faceless and disappears in crowds...always agreeable...always settling for the road with little conflict...and me is roaring to the surface like a lioness...ready to shake up ....suppressed and regressed mirror image that's not me but has defined me for a decade...charades...lost in the nurturing motherhood...submission of marital bliss...SCREAMING!!! Stop it!!! This, this, she is not me...She's impersonating...she's stepped into my skin and pulled me so tightly over her body that she's all you see...silenced like duct tape over mouth...left inside to shout and doubt, that the Me will ever become louder than She and be heard...singing the sunrise and sunset of a heartbeat...incarcerated by lack...