An Interesting Stranger

This morning I got up and went about my normal activities. I took a shower, I got dressed, I did my make up, straightened my hair. I put on my leather jacket and then a met the most intriguing person. She stared back at me when I looked in the mirror, but I didn't know her. Her pale skin almost glowed against the black make up, her copper hair wasn't quite straight, but it fell in waves around her bare shoulders. Her stomach was almost flat, just a little bulge. Her legs were long. Her wrists delicate.  This girl I saw, she was pretty. She looked like someone I'd like to know. But the thing that really caught my attention were her eyes. How dull they looked, how dead. Their color was as bright a blue as the morning sky, but they didn't shine the way they should. Those eyes, they almost looked familiar, but the ones I remembered shone with secrets and happiness, or the semblance of it. Now, they took away all her beauty. They were cold. This girl, I didn't know her. The girl I knew had frizzy hair, a chubby stomach, and would never let her shoulders show. The girl I knew didn't wear make up like that, maybe just a little mascara. The girl I knew - her eyes - they were bright. This girl, she mirrored my movements - she was me. But somehow, in all the fuss, I forgot who I was. I got lost and now this stranger, who I admit is prettier, took my place. She may be prettier, she may get the guys.. but she's not me. I don't know what happened to me. Because the girl in mirror... her eyes are not mine. I've never seen eyes that looked like those. Eyes of someone long dead, yet somehow still moving.