I was the innocent brown eyed girl
Never thinking to rebel
But crying “He did it!”
When my prized fire truck red
Clifford doll was mercilessly taken from me.
I cried, and took the whole Christian pre school by surprise
When I slapped the culprit, and HA’d in his face.

I was a child of routine
No change meant no surprise.
No unexpected agony or sorrow.
Memorizing every word of Lion King
Asking where my bubbly bunch of coconuts went.
Eating PB&J sandwiches just as often,
Until the doc said I had a potassium and protein overload.

I was Megan and a basketball,
Now I’m Megan and her headphones.
Constantly drowning out the world with every guitar riff and chorus line.
Torturing my pillow with a pair of tattered drumsticks
Branden Steineckert threw at me at their concert.
It was a sign, I know it.
Feeling every ounce of anger,
Despair,
Disappointment and disgust disappear with every swing of my arm.

I am hearing why, that question still imprinted in my mind.
“Don’t you see your guardian angel?”
No, I don’t.
Because I look in the mirror,
I see someone, I see me.
My brown eyes questioning every expression, detail and action.
Once so intrigued by the multitudes of colors at our cottage,
Now so focused on
What isn’t really their.
When you look in the mirror and don’t like what you see,
You’ll find out first hand then what was like to be me