The same as every morning, I dressed for work.
I chose my favourite top, I put on my new skirt.
I tried it with my boots and checked my reflection in the mirror
but that person looking back at me, she seemed so unreal to me.
I recognised those boots and I recognised my clothes,
my makeup was familiar, the room behind, mine.
But those eyes staring out, they were not me
I knew I was in there somewhere, hidden beneath
But in my mirror a stranger looked out at me.
Those 7 teenage years, do not belong to her.
She remembers the before and she remembers ever since,
but those years are unreal for her, as if watched on TV.
My reflection does not feel it, not what I revealed last week.
Those eyes are not connected to the pain held within.
She knows what he did, she knows what that caused.
but that pain does not belong to her, the reality not her own.
So we remain disconnected. ‘Cos I feel it and I know.
But each time she takes over, I seem to lose my ground.
So, I told again, last night. And I hoped she would see
and I will keep on going, until there’s nothing left in me.
Then, she will have no choice, all that will remain will be truth.
And one day I will look in the mirror and I know who I will see.
I will know who’s in the mirror, looking back at me.