Is It She? Is it Me?

I wonder,
Who he imagines,
When he talks to me.
Or thinks of me.

She's probably,
The girl,
Who listens,
To Dream Theater,
And Tool,
Avenge Sevenfold,
Mudvayne,
Songs that,
Aren't normal,
For a girl,
To like.

She's probably,
The girl,
With big,
Blue eyes,
Crazy Curly,
Brown hair,
Freckles that.
Dot her nose.


She's probably,
The girl,
That knows,
Who she is,
What she,
Truly believes,
Is never,
Afraid,
To show,
Her colors.

She's probably,
The girl,
That smiles,
With radiance,
In most,
Profile Picture,
And tries,
To make.
Others laugh,
When she's,
Not.

I'm the,
Girl who,
Is lost,
But he'll,
Never know,
Because I'll act,
Like I'm,
Totally fine.
Even when.
I know.
That I'm,
Dying inside.

I'm the,
Girl with,
Scars on,
My skin,
Slices of hate,
But he'll,
Never know.
Because I'll,
Send him,
A smiley.

I'm the,
Girl who,
Hides Behind,
A computer screen,
Being honest,
But hiding,
Who I,
Really am.