My vision's distorted, my shape is floating.
Too accustomed at seeing morbid horror.
My mirror's broken, I can’t hide it,
Half of my face is falling.
My eyes deceive me.
Thoughts mislead me.
I can’t seem to see through this haze.
I only see what I’m not.
My undesired skin repels them.
Eyes skip me on the train.
No hand would brush this corpse.
No mouth would dare to whisper.
Broken Mirror
© Copyright: Джеймс Грей, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121081308191
Свидетельство о публикации №121081308191
Рецензии
