I see the girl that they WANT me to be, and that’s who I want to be

I stare at the reflection of who I am currently, and I hate what I see

Sometimes I try to change (metamorphosis sculpting slowly)

But my alter gets the better of me.

                The Turning of the Tables:

Vociferously

Seductively,

Help me. I try to light it, and sometimes I win.

This isn’t me. I lose and I gain control go back and forth until I eventually give in.

THIS ISN’T ME!

Everything goes black obscuring any signs of clarity.

I turn into her.

Lights go on I’m staring at a girl before the mirror.

Same brown eyes.

Curly hair.

Brown skin.

Gapped teeth.

Pencil in hand pressed to the words I just wrote.

She isn’t… She can’t.. be…me

Who is she?