Sitting on my shoulder
is someone I can't see
she whispers softly in my ear
and watches over me
In her voice I hear the wind
her scent is of the sea
and even if I can't see her
at least she can see me
some days I feel jealous and angry
seeing the old books upon my shelf
but she just laughs and asks me why
I do that to myself
When I look into the mirror
and wonder what I should be
she says the one who can decide
the only one with the right is me
Sometimes I sit and start to think
what if she wasn't real
what if the mirror really was
as empty as I'd feel
Then I start and look about
praying she's still near
and in the silen