Looking in the mirror the bones and flesh are not the ones I remember. These bones are not my own.

They are dressed in silk and Demise. While the ones I'm looking for are pretty and pink with flowers not too far away.  

What have I become? I don't even remember my name.

Every word I say is foreign to my mouth.
I pray  the real me comes out. Maybe she is hiding. In a place that is more beautiful then she has ever seen.
Or maybe she is trapped.
Or maybe she no longer exists.