The Girl The Mirror Holds

I recieve visions of who I am, Perceptions of what others see   when they watch me.   I see a girl standing in front of a mirror...     Normally, she sees her reflection-a transferred image of herself...     Though, after watching for a moment,       someone walks up beside the girl in the mirror,         She smiles, though I do not...         She moves and I watch, as though my life's a movie,           The mirror is the screen...I stare         She smiles, laughs, enjoys life, or so it seems,         For when she returns home after a day of "popular life" at school       She lies on her bed and vioulently cries in her room,  secretly.       At school, she's perfect and everyone loves her,     Though when she's alone I see the truth-she doesn't know who she is...     I know all of this because this girl is me, trying to discover a life   Within the girl no one knows...all her life she's played a part,   Life's a play it seems, the only thing in which she's the star, The vision will then transfer, from the view of myself crying, To the mirror's point of view, looking at the real me, who I am at home. I am wearing a white garb, my whole body is bleeding,   I am drained completely of feeling-of life...   At the age of fourteen I begin to see, I have been dead all my life.     No one I know really knows who I am, how I feel,     Or what I wish to be, all they might possibly know,       I no longer wish to be me.  I wish I could stop living this life,       That I could re-evaluate my reason to be here...         But I can't becaue no one will let me,         I am not supposed to notice that I'm not...me;           I am just allowed to see who they want me to be.         I'll never know what I could have been         Unless I start changing me now,       They should just leave me the hell alone       And give me a chance to differ somehow.     Can't they see that I hate myself?     That this girl the mirror sees isn't alive inside?   Why don't they care that I wish I weren't here, that I could just be gone   Anyway, back to the girl the mirror sees in reverse, I don't know who she is,  I always see myself coated in blood, My own, because of all the people pulling at me, trying to kill who I am... Or who I could someday be.   This poem doesn't make much sense, but neither does my mind...   I suppose I just want to be different so everyone'll see I can,     So I can love myself for who I am,     And so I'll know who I look at in the mirror...       The girl the mirror sees is so comparative to who I really am,       That girl doesn't know what she feels, she's numb to real emotion.         I feel too much, and hurt inside, and cry         For reasons that are pointless, to me, to everyone,           I hate who I've become, who I am I loathe,         I wish it were easier to change         I want to become someone I'm not yet,       But the person I'm supposed to be...       No one knows me, not even my best friend,     Because I leave the real me at home,     My soul doesn't come to school with me, I leave her in my room.   And so, all day, I contemplate the girl inside the looking-glass..   I watch her fail, I watch her succeed, I watch her get stabbed in the back Common out-of-body experiences bring such unbearable strife, I wish I could Change what I see, become who I want to be, live a better life, be MYSELF Not   The   Girl     Mirror     Holds,       No,       Not         The         Mirror         Holds,       I       Hate     The     Girl   The   Mirror Holds....Please spill what you feel about this and tell me if it is bad, I'll be ok if you do! :) Kisses, LD Written April 17th, 2002 © on Apr 17 2002 10:00 AM PST   18 • 0 • 1