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.