for the first time in my life
I understood what people mean
when they say they don’t recognize
the person looking back at them in the mirror
because last night
when I peered into the mirror
my reflection was anything but
a source of comfort
I realized that I knew hardly anything
about the girl staring blankly back
I don’t know what she likes
what she wants
who she wants to be
or even why she was looking at me
she was just another empty face
in an endless procession
How can I be who I want to be
when I don’t even know
why I think this is important enough to write about?

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