who is that person? Staring back at me in the mirror. standing still I see every blemish, scar, birthmark that resides within them. the way the hips curb and the way there stomach hangs. so many perfections, I hate that person. that person is none other than me. this person deserves absolutely nothing.
- feeling ugly under your own skin
who am I? Who is that? Am I even real? Am I a fragment of my imagination? Maybe I'm not real, maybe I'm not here. Am I really here? Is this really living?
Changing my hair, clothes way of living. Copying other attributes.
Can someone tell me who I am
Am I even real?
Where do I start
Where do I end
- untitled identity
YOU ARE READING
surviving the storm
PoetryA collection of poems meant to soothe and release the pain from the rainy days
