In an unguarded moment
I saw what it is, to not see myself.
The fogged up mirror
didn’t let my reflection reach me.
And what reached me was
just a picture colored out of lines.
The more I looked at my obscured face,
the more I was convinced
that the faces was not mine.
The more I was convinced of the face being a stranger’s,
more easier it was for me to love and accept it.
If I could see myself as someone else
how easier it would be to live my life.
Not knowing what I know about myself,
not knowing what I think.
To be what I am and what I am not at the same time.
How easier it would be , if this is
what I saw in mirror everyday.
How beautiful can be not knowing, not seeing.
Only smudged shades of colors.
A face not mine.
Jan 30, 2017
Jan 30, 2017 at 12:24 AM UTC
In an unguarded moment
I saw what it is, to not see myself.
The fogged up mirror
didn’t let my reflection reach me.
And what reached me was
just a picture colored out of lines.
The more I looked at my obscured face,
the more I was convinced
that the faces was not mine.
The more I was convinced of the face being a stranger’s,
more easier it was for me to love and accept it.
If I could see myself as someone else
how easier it would be to live my life.
Not knowing what I know about myself,
not knowing what I think.
To be what I am and what I am not at the same time.
How easier it would be , if this is
what I saw in mirror everyday.
How beautiful can be not knowing, not seeing.
Only smudged shades of colors.
A face not mine.
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