Question Me

Waking up in the morning,
A mirror lays next to my bed
Picking it up,
I look in to the cold glass,
And I frown,
Cause it's not the face
I want to see.
I wish it was, yet I know,
That it's not.
And then I think of,
Just who it is I am.
People ask me the same
Freaking question,
And it's too darn often.
But they don't realize
That it hurts me.
What the hell do they think
That it's like?
To hear those hateful
Words come pouring
Out of their stupid mouths,
Without a care in the world.