A/N: Im still in an odd mood, so again, no elaboration
A.G.

That is not me

I look in the mirror,
And I see her in the mirror.
Who is that staring back?

That is not me. That is not me.
It cannot be, for that is not me.

But there she stands, staring back.
Her eyes are gray, with flecks of gold,
Pain deep there, but turning blue as her anger rises.

But I am angry too,
I wonder, why is she mad?
But then, I wonder, so am I.

She raises her fist, hate and pain in her eyes,
And hits the glass, shattering her reflection.
Who is she, and why is she mad?

As the mirror shatters I see,
Her brown hair swing in front of her face,
Hiding her hideous face.

That was not me in that mirror,
It couldn't have been,
She doesn't look like me.

I leave, the shattered glass on the floor,
And a photo of me I find.
That was not me in the mirror.

Her eyes may have been like mine,
Her hair may have been like mine,
But that was not me in that mirror.

I see why she was angry,
Looking at the photo, I may not be pretty,
But she hates me for how I look.

I hate her for hating me,
I did nothing to her,
I had nothing to do with it.

I go back to the room,
And in the shattered glass I see,
Her reflection again.

That is not me. That is not me.
It cannot be, for that is not me