She has never been a daughter, or a sister,
and she will never be a girlfriend or a mother.

She does not have a birth certificate,
Or a driver's license, or an adress,

And you will never see her, touch her,
Hear her voice or her laughter.

She is not tangible, or visible,
Objective, or material.

But she is not a fiction, or a fabrication,
A lie, an illusion, or a mirage.

She is not a wish or an aspiration,
A desire or a dream.

She is not a role, or a character,
A model or a construct, an ideal, or a cliche',

A conception, a convention, a projection,
An expression, a notion, a fashion, or a whim.

She is not a condition, or a disorder,
a confusion, fixation, obsession, or delusion;

She is not hereditary;
She was not nurtured into being, and

She is not a flaw or a failure,
A disappointment or a weakness.

She is not defined or justified
By your acknowledgement,

By your understanding or acceptance,
Or by apologies or explanations, and

She is not nullified or dissapated by denial
Or rejection, or fear, or shame.

She just is.
Finally.