I painted on my mask
recited my lines to the mirror
The cold glass believing me less than I did myself
So I washed it away
Let my face drip slowly down the long, weaving drain
Drip, drop, plop
But still mirror ignored me
Refused to show the lie I was so sure was true
"I'm alright, it's okay."
Drip, drop, plop
Tears erase the last remains of my facade away
No comments:
Post a Comment