Tears slipping down my pale cheeks. The mirror shows a broken girl.Eyes, weary and dead.Face drawn with pain.Lips clenched white.Her hair lays limply from her head.Her body is folded slightly in on itself.As if preparing for a harsh blow. Cold. I     Am               Cold Like a glacier,In the middle of Antartica. The clouds cast shadows,That hide my Death. The mist after the sweet, hard rain.Hides my empty, souless eyes.  I move.I breathe.I talk.I smile.I laugh. But I am dead. In truth...I died long, long, ago. Maybe I was murdered.OrMaybe i just couldn't take the pain anyore.Maybe I killed myself. It doesn't matter.Because..... They can't seeThat       I'mDead.