I know her, at least I think

I mean, her color is navy-blue

She would paint light-grey

 I know her moods

She hides when she cries

If you know, where would she go?

I know enough to hold her

 Enough from her past of course

Her paining dislocated ankles

After every game she plays

Scars that marks her body

To her they’re reminders

Reminders of her old self

 I see what they’ve created

Heights frighten her

Untidy disgust her

Pervert sarcasm discomforts her

If you know, who would she be?

She can take a lie

But she can’t give one

Too sensitive

And faith is her consolidation

She is a soft forgiver,

Hard lover

With fear of losing

She is a mystery!