When I look in the mirror
I see me
but increasingly
I do not recognise
the woman
behind my eyes.
This woman
so continuously
distracted
she is unable
to give her
full attention
to anything
or anyone –
even those
she loves.
Who is she?
– Not me.
Her mind –
or is it mine?
Wanders - continuously
unaware of time,
among words
and images
that must
be played out
on an page
or a canvas.
Who is she?
– Not me.
When I look
in the mirror
I am scared
this woman
will replace
the real me,
The real me
who is slowly
disappearing,
consumed
by the lack
of brain cells
and the drugs
used to replace them.
When I look
in the mirror
I am scared
I am becoming
only her.
Unable to focus
on the
here and now
of the day
the real me–
wants
so very much
to be present.
So I
search
for something
that will
tether
me to her
her to me –
the real me
and I find it
in the words
and images
she wanders through.
I persuade
her to choose
to tell stories,
paint pictures
of my day to day life l
love for family
and friends.
When I look
in the mirror
I know her now.
Who is she?
She is me.
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