The Lonesome

I look in the mirror

Cracked, dusty, tainted

Who is staring back at me?

I do not recognize her

I see dark chestnut hair

Cold cobalt eyes

A smirk in the grin

I force myself to wear

I see smudged black makeup

Tear stains long forgotten

And pearls in the ears

Of the girl staring back at me

Her hair done up in fancy ribbons

A pastel rose red dress

Frills in the tattered gloves

Covering white knuckles gripping the sink

She stares at me

So hopelessly

What can I do

But cry myself to sleep

Counting sheep

Does not help the lonesome

They fly by to fast

Wisps in the wind

My heartbeat

A steady beating against my chest

Replaces the tick tock

Of the grandfather clock

So abandoned

What has become of me?

It has replaced me

A ghost of a girl

I used to know her

She used to sing me to sleep

Quiet lullabies

Telling tales in the night