She Can’t Be Me
By Ashley O’Hare
I found my high school ID,
but that girl looks nothing like me.
How can she smile like that—
like she has absolutely nothing to fret?
Doesn’t she know what lies ahead:
days spend under the covers in bed,
never finding comfort alone with her head,
wishing beyond reason to speak to the dead.
She looks too young with dry eyes—
like she is not me, but a child of mine.
How would she react if she knew her future?
Would she deny it and claim I must be a liar?
This girl is much too weak for this world.
It’s no wonder her life so quickly unfurled.