That Girl

That Girl

Who is that staring back at me out of my mirror?
She looks so strange,
With haunted eyes.
Her smile has faded into oblivion.
She looks so familiar to me,
And yet so foreign and different.
Who is this person standing before me?
I don’t know her.
Just last night I knew here.
She was beautiful,
Tousled hair and red, red lips,
Eyes sparkling with mirth.
But, no more.
Now, she is bedraggled:
Face pale and eyes red from crying.
Her soul is empty and silent.
She is rejected, unwanted,
And it shows.
It shows in the down turned corners of her lips,
In the sad tilt of her head,
The angle of her jaw line,
The shaking of her hands.
Don’t let me be that girl.