Thoughts, Never Words. (Poetry Collection)

One day.

Maybe, one day.

                                     One.

Lucky.
                        Day.

I'll look into my reflection

And see

Myself.

Maybe.

Until then I'll hide me from myself.

And,

if that day comes,

It will be the day I finally breathe.

The day I breathe without my skin

crawling

and tearing

and begging

to be on someone else's body.

That'll be the day I tell myself,

for the first time,

'everything. Everything will be okay.'

And actually mean it.