Aug 2019
I tread on broken glass
And see the past in its reflection
Thousands of twisted faces
A stranger in every section.
Memories better off forgotten
Cold and distant and blue
Yet the constant in the chaos
Is the blurry, dizzy truth.
I'm the monster
I'm the stranger
In every silver piece,
But the monster
And the stranger
She just isn't me.
Only I could have changed
The reflections that I saw
But what was in those mirrors
Wasn't myself at all.
