Who Am I?

I look in the mirror and don't recognize the painting staring at me with wide eyes.

She's perfectly sculpted, batting her lashes in disbelief.

But I don't know who she is.

Her eyes are filled with confusion, her lips -- traced with the essence of her past.

But I don't know who she is.

Where has she gone? What has she done?

Does she pay for her sins the way I do?

Does she live with her mistakes the way I do?

I deserve it. 

She deserves it.

She has lost herself the way I lost myself.

The figure in the mirror copies my movements, but she looks so different.

Her eyes hold my soul.

But I don't know who she is.

~ Sleepy