Everyday I look in the mirror, Take a guess at what I see. Oh, wow, you must be a genius, That's right - what I see is me.

But it's not just a reflection there, It's that and so much more. There's something else staring back at me And it shakes me to the core.

What I see is this other person, To whom I stake no claim. But we share a lot of features, Like hair, eyes, and a name.

This other girl, though, She's ugly, both inside and out. She says and does unspeakable things Of which I can't explain much about.

She's the one who talks down to people. She's the one who yells at my mother. She's the one who bad-mouths my friends. She's the one who curses at my brother.

She's the one who throws a chair, Who wishes to herself for violence. She's the one who stares back at me, Saying so much with her silence.

Sometimes I think I recognize her, This girl I sometimes see. And the ugliest thing about her - Sometimes, this girl is me.

It took a while, but "Ver" is back with a sketchy, personal glimpse into her life. Escritora pushed me to write something so go visit her stuff - it's better than this, trust me.