Dazed, mind filled with xanax dust. I'm questioning who I am When I look in the mirror I do not see myself I see a stranger With bags under her sunken in eyes And her eyes, they look sad Lifeless, dead And her body Her body's ugly, fat, disgusting Covered with marks, scars, burns. But as I look at this person in the mirror I am over came with the urge To hurt her, to feed her pills and potions Because some how I think I am her I am the sad girl in the mirror with the cuts down her arms and the bags under her eyes I just don't want to believe it Believe I've wasted away To xanax dust and cuts.