I hate what I've become.
I hate what I did.
I hate why I live.
This person you see is not me.
It is someone lost.
Someone in pain.
I look for the old me, but she has left this empty body.
I look in a mirror, and see that face so empty.
Is this really what I wanted?
To be someone I am not?
5/25/09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem