I forgot,
if last night,
was actually tomorrow.
And whether or not,
if I’m dreaming,
or living,
a nightmare,
instead.
This is something,
I’d much rather,
**** it up,
and be a big girl.
But I’m crying,
in the corner,
like a baby,
instead.
I’m supposed,
to choke it down,
without tasting,
the poison.
But I’m,
throwing up,
while I gag,
and wishing,
it was someone else,
instead.
That isn’t fair,
but I guess,
I’ve become,
someone not me.
The cracked reflection,
of the broken mirror,
I stepped on,
while twirling,
instead.