The Girl In the mirror

This girl in the mirror,
isn't the one I know.
She still looks like me,
but she just isn't me though.

She has hate in her eyes,
and a frown in her smile.
She cant seem to find herself,
or make her life worth while.

Her fists have grown white,
from being clutched for so long.
She doesn't seem to understand,
being right from so wrong.

Her face is stained,
from the blood she whipped off.
Her skin no longer,
is tanned and baby soft.

Her hair is a mess,
no longer bouncing with curls.
Her neck less had turned red,
her skin now matches her pearls.

Her clothes are now stained red,
with what she says is "red ink".
She hides a broken piece,
of glass under her sink.

She wears long selves,
to cover her scared arm.
She hopes and prays she,
will stop her self harm.

She stands with a slump,
never standing tall.
When she puts herself in front,
shes afraid she will fall.

Her friends are just like her,
their faces faded and black.
Shes planning on leaving,
but where she is going she's not coming back.

Her face she hides,
behind her knotted hair.
She afraid and now,
has forgotten how to share.

So many have taken,
what she knows as hers.
She searches for answers,
she searches for cures.

Her eyes have darkened,
from the green to a black.
She doesn't understand,
what she did, what she lack.

She runs from the darkness,
with now way out.
No one can hear her,
plead, scream, or shout.

I reach for the mirror,
try grab her frail hand.
Back in the mirror,
I stumble and land.

Open my eyes,
to find me as her.
How I escape,
I'm not sure.

I push on the mirror,
I want to get back.
How do I get out,
of this places so hollow and black?

I lay just staring,
at the mirror on the floor.
I have become that girl,
finally once more.