I dare take a look in the mirror,
into a deadly pale
strange blurred face
that once,
I used to know so well.
Distraught big brown eyes
stare into me,
blankly.
They look out of place,
ghostly and faded.
But they are still open,
my heart is still beating,
blood still runs through my veins,
and my lungs,
they are still breathing.

I am alive.
I am alive.
I am still alive.

So why do I feel already dead?