Sometimes when I look in the mirror I do not recognize who it is staring back at me. Of course, I understand that a mirror only reflects what it sees so am I not who I think I am? Does the mirror see things I do not? No man can ever step in the same river twice, for he is not the same man and it is not the same river. I understand that people change but how did I change so much without realizing. Sometimes I look in the mirror and I see a woman, but I am not a woman. Sometimes I look in the mirror and I see a young boy, but I am not a young boy. Sometimes I look in the mirror and I see myself. I see myself too well. Every delicate flaw outlined in a prison of reflection. I understand no person in this world is without flaw but why must theirs accentuate the beauty in them and mine reveal more flaws. Imperfections infecting my every pore. I hate my ears so I cover them with hair, I hate my hair so I cover it with hats. I understand that running away solves nothing but if I can postpone problems until death I would call that a solution. I understand the world is backwards or maybe it’s just me. I don’t understand anything. I write because I don’t understand how actions can speak louder than words when they can’t even speak. I cry because I don’t understand why my words don’t work. I go on because I don’t understand how crying can help anything. I look in the mirror because I don’t understand who I am. I don’t understand who I am so I look in the mirror to try and see who I am. Every time the answer is different.