i'm not sure

if i can ever love

the person looking back at me

but i'll try,

at least for a second

hazelish-green eyes

that water so often now

that i wonder

if i'm ever not ready

to cry

dyed-red hair

to mask the things i didn't like

cut in layers and ready

to run at the first sign

of anxiety

a smile that

used to light my face

but now the frowning,

unsure, wavering lines

of anxiety chase it away

hands that shake

every time i'm nervous

hands that are ice-cold

with worry and fright

hands that don't quite warm up right

a body that curves

"in all the right places"

but makes me uncomfortable

every time i'm made

to acknowledge it

there's a lot of me

there's some i hate

some i don't really like

not much i take care of;

been so busy thinking about everyone else

i'm not sure

if i can ever love

the person looking back at me

but i've tried,

at least for a second