I look at that girl,
the one in the mirror.
Is that really me?

That girl with the sore eyes.
The one with a broken smile.
What happened to her?

Then I remember all the pain.
All the nights she cried herself to sleep.
All the nights she couldn't even close her eyes.
All those days spent looking at a screen,
envying the girls that were living.

She longed for that,
for a connection.
But she feared vulnerability and honesty.

So she stayed cooped in her tower of her making.
Spending her days in deep sorrow.
Is this how to live?