silent . vague . like me . unlike myself.
The mirror rose upon my identity
questions , and wanted answers
but how will a dirty soul
confess and accept its blunders ?
I bluntly look at you , my mirror
stare at you , while you stare at me
I touch your edges
and the glass cuts my skin deep
it aches to know
when your own glass
refuses to reflect your soul
and cuts your skin of guilt
maybe , cuts to heal within
No comments:
Post a Comment