Am I the girl
enclosed in the clear reflection
of the glass mirror-
the girl scrutinizing her
every line
every shadow
every flaw
every pigment-
Or am I the girl
whose tears
are indistinguishable from
the drops of rain
that sting her face,
as she gazes longingly at the sky
above.
Or am I the girl
who drowned her rage
at God
and the world
one night with pills and
etched marks on my skin
to reveal the wounds inside.
Or am I the girl
who lived life on the
days she could not-
so no one outside
could glismpe
torn pieces
behind
the shallow glow
in my eyes,
beaming toward
the camera light.
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