I am the girl in the mirror,
Won’t you look at me?
I watch you every moment,
I cannot let you be.

You do not like attention
yet you bring it every day,
when they ask you about your wrists
there is nothing left to say.

And now I watch you mop the blood
That’s spilled upon the floor,
Nervously kneeling down beside it,
Staring at the door.

You wrap it in a kind of gauze,
Trying not to cry,
And even when you ask yourself
You know not the reason why.

Perhaps it’s because of your father
Or maybe because of Chad,
The way he didn’t talk to you,
The way he made you mad.

But suddenly when you just look down
And realize what you’ve done,
The names become abstract words
Akin to a mocking pun

You don’t know why you do it,
An answer you can’t say,
It’s like you try to hide yourself,
And numb the sudden pain.

You clean the knife in the sink,
Your hands will not be still,
The pain just hurts so much, so much,
So much you’d want to kill.

And then you finally look at me,
The tears are in your eyes,
And you ask me why you do this,
Cut as well as lie.

And how I wish to answer you,
And make your reasons clearer,
answer you tenderly, that is,
But I’m the girl in the mirror.