Is it me?

She looks back at me,
Her face pale and white,
Her hair hangs wildly,
And her eyes look sad and tight.

If she dies tomorrow, next week or today,
Theres things she will regret,
And things that she should say.

Shes not afaraid to die,
But theres things she should of said,
But she didn't know how to voice them,
So she kept them in her head.

So if she never see you,
She wants you to know,
You'll be in her heart,
Where ever she may go.

She looks into my eyes,
This girl who i call 'she,'
A tear falls down her cheek,
It's so easy to forget that this girl is really me.