This Shell

As I stare into the mirror
I see a silhouette,
of someone who has gone through a transformation,
caused by someone gladly met.
This new shell,
contains more, yet the same,
of what I have known to be,
all of what makes up the mundane,
This void inside me,
eats away at my faith,
but trust is refueled by assumed love,
I have passed my eighth,
Look outside at the golden air,
and wonder why my skin is so gray,
How someone can feel like they are running from the unknown,
each and every typical day,
I don't know what to do anymore,
I am lost in my own self,
if this shell is ever going to hold something,
I have to get a hold of myself....