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Who is this?

Who is that,
that unfamiliar stranger
living in my reflection?
She cannot be me.

Who is this,
with their bloodshot eyes
and mouth set in frown?
She cannot be me.

Who is she,
with her self-cut hair
and pale hands gripping the counter so tight?
She cannot be me.

Who is this,
with their scars
and their bloodless face?
She cannot be me.

Who is that,
that misconcieved intruder
residing in my mirror?
She cannot be me.

She cannot be me,
for while I am alive,
she is dead.



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