Why are we honest with our lies and truthful to our disguise?
Is painting over our blemishes our only conscious truth?
Our only proof that we are aware that our blemish exist?
Even our cries are heavily exaggerated and dimly written.
If we can’t face the mirror, what do we reflect?
Why do we all prefer holding the mirror towards others, rather than ourselves?
Questions that are forever unanswered.
by jasmine aka beyond all eyes