My shadow took a knife to religion
Moral limitations destroyed; no rules to follow
Without purpose; without curiosity
Past here and now and over and up there

My shadow freezes girls’ speech
Until they melt into mature words of women
Only then will she drink their opinions
With the strength to spit them out

My shadow pleases the male desire
While filling its fake heart with attention
My shadow teases men
Until its pride is consumes flattery

My Shadow stayed with Peter Pan
Her magic remained
Not killed by responsibility
When told to be mature

My shadow tries everything
Parties every night; taking drinks and drugs
Until its mind is content
No fear of death; living like it won’t wake up

My shadow eats nonstop
Laughs at makeup
And smiles
At messy hair

My shadow wears flowers as her clothing
Tides as her jewelry
Wind her hair
Sun her complexion with no fear to shine brighter then other stars

My shadow has no constraint on words for those who hate
She would choose the “popular group”
with no fear
Or thought of losing every other friend

My shadow wears the latest trends
Doesn’t think and read over the texts she sends
Doesn’t question intentions
Or analyze each look of eyes

My shadow wears a coat of rebellion.