Nov 2012
Look in the mirror,
That face is looking back at me,
Sure that face is what others see,
But inside is it someone else at times?
Iām left feeling like a spectator in my mind,
Feeling the world as it occurs around, disconnected,
Feeling who people refer to as is someone else, not me,
Feeling like a different person every few periods,
The habit controlling my body,
The conscious wondering what this foreign place could be,
Uncomfortable in my own skin,
I am left staring through the eyes of the person Iām supposed to be,
Meeting people, shaking hands,
Reacting as they might expect from who I am,
The person staring back at me from the mirror, is that me?
Alas I debate and conclude on who the person running this body could be.
That face is looking back at me,
Sure that face is what others see,
But inside is it someone else at times?
Iām left feeling like a spectator in my mind,
Feeling the world as it occurs around, disconnected,
Feeling who people refer to as is someone else, not me,
Feeling like a different person every few periods,
The habit controlling my body,
The conscious wondering what this foreign place could be,
Uncomfortable in my own skin,
I am left staring through the eyes of the person Iām supposed to be,
Meeting people, shaking hands,
Reacting as they might expect from who I am,
The person staring back at me from the mirror, is that me?
Alas I debate and conclude on who the person running this body could be.
About feeling fake, feeling unreal, having an identity crisis, or just being disconnected from oneself, or becoming what one thinks others want one to be. This is a part of my identity.
