Do you ever wonder who you are?

"Who am I?" Is a question I ask myself in the mirror often

But I never get a response 

The mirror is murky and dirtied

My nuanced facial expression was in distaste

No matter how much I tried to rub it off, it's still dirty

One day, when I stroked the mirror, it cracked

I decided not to try cleaning it anymore

And I stared at the dirt on the mirror

I thought I hated it, but I liked the dirt

One day, I asked in the mirror "Who are you?"

I saw someone else in the mirror

Someone who looked like me

Someone who had an empty reflection 

Someone who was a beautiful me

I wanted to be like the person I saw in the mirror

They wanted me to be like them, too

Everyday, I talked to the person in the mirror

Their words made me feel docile

Everyday, the dirt on the mirror changed patterns

But the person inside the mirror stayed the same

I couldn't stop staring 

When they spoke to me, I thought about what it'd be like to be them

To become them

Myself is a nauseating and repulsive mess of nothingness

I have no reflection.

I see my shadow.

And it speaks to me,

It said to me, 

"You're not you. You're me"

I see it smile. A beautiful smile,

and I want to be just like it.

I once had a garden full of violets.

Violets that were blue and purple

Some of them wilted, and grew ill

But the rest had flourished in the sunlight, and bloomed perfectly

They looked beautiful, standing and inhaling every nutrient from the sun

I loved my violets.

But one day all of them died, except for one

That one flower, half faded and both in and out of the sunlight was still there

I kept it alive for as long as I could

It didn't survive, and I had nothing, regardless of my futile attempts to make it blossom.

My garden was empty, and so was I.

I could still see the ghosts of what flora there used to be.

So, I decided to become one with the earth and put my life to rest there.

That way, I could be alone and empty with my violets instead of nowhere, and nothing.