I look into the mirror
and I always see,
that strange girl
looking back at me.

She looks upset,
even more then before,
maybe shes just hurting,
maybe shes just sore.

She looks very tired,
with black under her eyes.
The blank look on her face
is errupted with a sigh.

I never understand
why shes always in my house,
creeping through the hallways,
quiet as a mouse.

Sometimes shes smiling
until she looks back at me,
maybe she doesn't like,
wut she always sees.

I might spend hours
watching this strange girl,
seeing her face
makes me wanna hurl.

She never has a mood,
that seems set in stone,
she reminds me of
a broken bone.

It seems to be healing,
but it's still broken,
so close to success
i shouldn't have spoken.

When I realize who she is
I always seem to cry,
looking at myself
thinking I was standing by.