Her

She looks in the mirror
and doesn't see herself.
Someone who is much stranger
with much better health.

She's dying on the inside,
suffering, yet so sane.
This person doesn't hide,
And her act, doesn't cover the pain.

Reach out and touch,
trying to make up for being late.
Reach out and clutch,
but taking emptiness and hate.

Begining to despise everyone,
Not seeing past her present.
Never getting out and having fun,
Talking but not saying what she meant.

She found life hard,
Never finding her key.
Walk out to the back yard.
Dig a hole just to see.

For this teenager,
Looking for that key.
Isn't just a stranger,
For she is me.