Who am I, anymore?
And I gazed hard at my reflection. Blackened eyes stared back. They were exhausted but ready to pounce. A steady beat of trance sent waves through the room and my heart danced to it. Old make up stained the dry skin under my black eyes but I kept breathing and blinked once, seemingly in slow motion. Eyelashes curled and stuck together. Black. Everything dark except the paleness of my cheeks, the rose of my dried lips. Eyes white with tiny rivers of blood flooding the corners. I am so tired. But I cannot sleep.
