I stare into the mirror.
What do I see?
A sack of flesh and bone
Powered by fear of death.
I lean in to examine my face.
What do I see?
A glittering mask ******* on by
The expectations of spectators.
I peer into the depths of my eyes.
What do I see?
My soul fading after each tick of the
Clock -- a race to be somebody.
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 10:50 AM UTC
I stare into the mirror.
What do I see?
A sack of flesh and bone
Powered by fear of death.
I lean in to examine my face.
What do I see?
A glittering mask ******* on by
The expectations of spectators.
I peer into the depths of my eyes.
What do I see?
My soul fading after each tick of the
Clock -- a race to be somebody.
