Never in my life have I not recognized my own face.

Who is this girl standing before me?

The scars of time raked across her once pretty face.

You can see where the tears once feel,

leaving their mark to show her pain.

Who is this person?

Who stands before me?

Whose eyes will haunt my distant memories,

clouding my mind,

tormenting my dreams.

Why is she so empty?

So full of rage.

Why is her heart so hardened?

So cold.

Almost as if the glass hit the floor.

Shaking,

scared,

sad,

Rush of emotion over flooding my brain.

My heart stops.

I can't breathe.

That girl…

who is standing there…

is me.