Out of Body. Out of Mind.

Every few months I get to meet myself again.I look into the mirror and see a ghost.Who am I? Where did I come from?I know it's me that I'm looking atbut nothing is recognizable."I have green eyes," I tell myself.This will be over soon,I remember from the last time.I am not scared of the stranger in front of me;I wait with bated breath to know her name.m.e. peters