My Mask
The mirror I stare at no longer shows me.
Glimpses from afar make me think of a stranger.
If I look really hard will I see the child I used to be?
Eyes that look so tired and worn stare back at me.
Even my reflection isn't seeing me.
Where have I gone and who is that woman that I see?
In my hand I hold a mask of who I used to be.
I wear it whenever I wish I could just be me.
