She stared at the girl that stood in front of her.
Her bones stuck out of her cheeks, hollow and dark.
She looked like skin and bones.
Bags sat under her eyes
She shook slightly not able to stop it.
Her body ached
She felt as though she wasn't able to hold herself up
How had she let herself change into the person standing in front of her?
She’d promised herself she wouldn’t.
But she had to accept... sooner or later...
That the girl standing in the mirror was herself.
And her worst nightmare had kicked in again.
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This Is Me (Poetry)
PoetrySome of these poem's are personal poems and mean something to me. Others are poems that I have been inspired to write and don't apply to me. I tend to write sad poems. But occasionally there's a happy one.
