Reflection

You are always there staring back at me with eyes of regret.

But, who are you? I ask.

But, no response is all I  get. Only a worn down expression across your face.

But,who are you?

With eyes glazed over from tears that run ramped. A mind who’s choice is, but to be confined to a safe place inside your head.

Who are you? I ask.

You are there every morning when I awake and every night before my head hits the bed.
But, I don’t recognize you.

So I ask again. Who are you?

Because you are not the me, I choose to see in my reflection.