I look
in the mirror.
I do not recognize "myself."
I watch "my" hands,
typing a message
to "my" boyfriend:
"I love you
so
much."
I feel nothing.
I roll over in bed.
Scratch the blemishes
on "my" aching shoulders.
They are already bloodied.
Fingers pull away wet,
skin stinging painful.
I feel nothing.
"My" friends,
family,
talk to "me."
I hear "myself" laughing.
I hear "myself" joking.
Their voices are
static in "my" ears.
I feel nothing.
I feel nothing.














