I look in the mirror.
It is not me.
Who am I, then?
Where have I gone?
What is inside of me, is not me.
But I don't know anything except this.
This thing.
It's who I am, but it's not me.
Me and it are two in one.
Yet,
Together,
We are not whole
YOU ARE READING
Skinny
PoetryOnce upon a time I stayed up a little too late and poured my feelings into poems.
