I am not a reflection of myself,

I am a parallel of time itself.

Never once,

did I think I could be

my own person but,

nevertheless I kept on going

to see who I am impersonating.

To see who lies

within me whether or not

I am a mirror of myself or a mirror

of the man who left me for himself but I am also not the woman

who gave birth to me

because I know I cannot see from her green eyes that pierce right through me,

Like shards of glass

I am left on my ass and

I am trying to be

who she wants me to be but I look like the the man who has left me.

I want to be myself

but I have no idea who I look like

or what I look like,

as they say a butterfly cannot see the beauty of its wings

And people are the same we cannot see our own Beauty.

But I know I am ugly,

and I know who I remind people of.

I am the thing that mirrors yourself, and everyone knows

you're not supposed to love yourself.

you're supposed to cry, sweat, and bleed for the person you want to be. But what have I done?

I believe I've done nothing.

I've been an empty husk

waiting to be filled by

The beings who created me.

What a life I have yet to lead.