Mystery of Me.

Who am I?

It seems like I used to know. But now I don't.

I look in the mirror and looking back is the shell of someone that I once knew.

The girl I knew was a fighter.

She had fought to live, and fought to love.

You could burn her to ashes and she would rise above.

She didn't misstep over unexpected cracks.

She never once questioned her path.

A voice of reason, a reason for truth,

always once step closer than you to you.

With her mind made up and her head built strong,

you knew when she meant business it wouldn't be long.

She suited up; weapons, helmet and armor,

And fought the battles for those beside her.

Her shell never cracked, never once faltered,

But an unknown war was brewing inside her.

She learned her truths and bared them too,

And with that, a light broke through.

Revealing to her what she hoped to never see,

A tormented soul with silent screams.

It's not very often I really look at this person. I can go the entire morning; shower, teeth, hair, and never notice yesterdays mascara running under my eye and down my cheek. What does that really say about me? What should it be saying to me? I've spent so much of the time and energy that should've been allocated for me, and dedicated it to everyone else. Instead of taking the time to read my own vibes, to gauge my own feelings, to identify the sabotage, I chose to recognize it in others to offer a helping hand. It seems I've created a way of living that bypasses me entirely.

And for some reason, it feels like it's too late to change.