If I Could Be Me

  

If I could be me,
I wouldn’t be this face I see in the mirror,
With beard too dark and jaw too square.
No, the me I would be lies behind my green eyes.

No breathless bimbo I'd be,
If I could be me,
Or sexy starlet.
It isn’t being a sex symbol that being me is all about.
I wouldn’t even vacuum in high heels and pearls
Like a fifties sitcom mom
If I could be me.
I wouldn’t be the belle of the ball
In petticoats and lace.
They aren’t me, you see.
The me I’d be is very much like the me I see,
Except my outward body would reflect my inner reality.

No, the me I see behind these green eyes
Is sometimes foolish, sometimes wise,
Everyone’s favorite teacher or aunt,
Or storyteller at the library,
Dressed in denim jumper
Or skirt of plaid,
Funny earrings that dangle.
I’d have nails that are painted
A cheerful color,
And, oh yes, comfortable shoes
(those five inch heels don’t fit my style).
My thick wavy hair would fall past my shoulders.
Maybe I’d color it for fun, like I would my nails,
Or maybe I’d let it be streaked with gray
Because I would be that comfortable with myself,
My real self, and growing old would be okay..
I might be something of a klutz but with a certain lightness,
A fey sprite or a sly saint.

The self I would like to be
If I could be me,
Behind the smile, the teasing whimsy,
Would have some mystery,
Some hint of magic,
With more layers than a Russian doll,
A self within a self within a self.
That’s the one I see behind these green eyes,
The one I see in my inner mirror,
She’s who I would be,
Emmie Dee,
If I could be me,
If I could
Be
Me.

  

by Emmie Dee

  

  

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