Who's That?

This is wrong. 

As I looked I to the mirror I could see the lines around my eyes - deep creases from dehydration and years of stress. This life has not been kind to me. But it's not the lines I feel are wrong. Those are all earned. 

This isn't me. This isn't my face or my body. I'm trapped inside a strangers body and there's nothing I can do about it. I look I to the mirror and I have no idea who that person is. I know who I am, but the face in the mirror? She's a stranger. She always has been. 

My family is not my family. My face is not my face. Even my hands are borrowed from someone else - someone who's meant to be in this body. Someone who fits. I don't fit. 

I have no idea what I would look like if I were in the correct form, but I do know this isn't it. I do know that this isn't who I'm meant to be. I just don't know why I ended up here or how I got here. 

And I'm lost. 

I'm trapped within a stranger and there's no way out until the end of all things.