The girl in the mirror looks at me with sunscreen still on her nose,
A smile plastered across her face as she realizes her mistake,
I turn away from the mirror and try to rub the sunscreen in,
After a brief laugh, mom comes to help me,

On the first day of kindergarten the girl stares at me,
Her face is projected on the car window,
Her hair is done in braids and her big brown eyes full of anxiety,
I turn away from the window to see the school,
My mom walks me to the glass doors where I see the girl again,

The first day of middle school I see the girl in the bus window,
Her hair is down, strands falling in her face like she has something to hide,
Her eyes are the color of the locked wood door she hides behind,
I pull up my hood and put in my headphones trying to forget she exists,

My first day of high school I realized that the girl is me,
I avoid reflective objects like it's my job,
If I don't see her she isn't real,

But when I finally do look at her, I don't see me,
I see the insides of churches,
I hear songs that I couldn't song because my throat was full of sand,
I see candles being put out as a box holding someone I loved is being carried out the door,
I see this on a loop 10 times,
The image slightly changing for each person I lost before my first day in high school,

Maybe that's why it took so long to figure out that the girl and me share the same body,
The only difference between us is she's a ghost and I'm fighting to survive.