articles - poetry

| f o r t y |

"they promised me that this mirror would hold my reflection,
but it doesn't.

i don't know those red eyes,
i don't recognize those lips,
i don't know that smile,

which is so fake,
so broken,
constantly chapped no matter how much tears slip onto it.

am i staring at myself?
or am i staring at my beaten up soul that i hold?"