Reflection

Today, I look like I did when I was
a little kid.
I don't know if it's the bags under my eyes
or the light grey tinge to my skin from
quarantine's grip,
or if it's just because I'm growing out
my hair again,
but I look like a child—
all wide eyes, small brows, big cheeks—
and I once again do not recognize
myself.

Between dysphoria and dissociation,
I have never looked at a photo of me
and had it really click that that's 
not a stranger.
I have this version of what I look like,
but when I look at photos of 
my younger self, I realize
the internal at the time
did not fit the external.

I am constantly catching up to
who I am supposed to be 
by now, but my face
never follows.