Sometimes I stand at a distance and look at me

I see her
Walking languidly
Keeping the weight of the world steady on her shoulders
The zeal and agility that once shook her core, gone

I stand apart and look again

I see her
Walking gracefully
With such poise and strength
Assertive in every stride

I see me
A living oxymoron
Happily sad
Enchanted and repelled
Within and without
Demure and Wild
Peaceful yet violent

I see me lost, yet found.

All the bright and beautiful things in this world fade
Or do they brighten up?