The New Girl

The New Girl.
When is she not talking?
She's far too loud, too boisterous for my ears that hear more than they should.

She hungers for the things she says she does not want.
Her longing eyes imprinted on my mind as she pushed aside her treasure for something she tells herself is better.

The new girl wants love but will not accept it.
She wants adulthood but does not want to see it.

She doesn't need love yet it's all that she wants.
She doesn't need a man, but the confidence he will give her.

New girl loves to please others.
Waves of opinions; the tide always changes.

In her own stubborn nature, she's just a naïve little girl.
Manipulated to serve the needs of another.
The needs of another she so dearly looks up to.
They tear her down to build her up.
Poor new girl, now her worth lies in her masters.
New girl doesn't think they're her masters, but her friends.
New girl doesn't see their motives when she's offered validation.

The new girl doesn't listen to me.
The new girl calls me poison.
I agree with her, I am poison.

The new girl.
She is entirely not herself - she is embracing herself.
Never changing for another - always denying herself.
I understand her perfectly. I have no idea who she is.