Girl Inside

In a black swimsuit,
Red embellishments.
Diving into the water
A boy from fifth grade in the same lane.

{The girl is hiding the scars on her arm
Thinking about how that same boy
Made a part of the way she was now.}

Not talking much,
To the other members of the team.
Just silently existing,
With a mask.

{I bet he barely remembers those years.
I bet he would never believe what I've done
The changes from those innocent years.}

Drills and backstroke
Are torture
Mentally more than physically.
She welcomes the pain that is the power of the water.

{So strong, holding me up.
Yet can hurt when it is hit too hard.
Thoughts wandering}

The boy still has fun in his teasing.

{He's cuter now, with a deeper voice and well-toned muscles. Still, how could I forget his crimes?}

To him, I am nothing but
A memory of elementary school,
Lost in the thoughts of past years
And years to come.

{To all of them,
I am a memory.
What would they
Think of the difference?}

Random Spanish phrases
Float through my head
As the water churns
Beneath my strokes.

{Call me a poser,
An attention-seeker.
None of them would believe.
Thus it is my greatest deception}

Who would believe that they created this monster. Yet all have touched some part of the puzzle which is me. Whether you shaped the mask or the monster, there is a difference.

{Thinking of my former best friends. How they shaped the mask by insisting I conform to the way they were. And the "hags from hell" who touched the monster.}