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Deceiving Reflection
Just looking around, at anything,
at nothing.
Nothing but an empty space.
An empty life.
Myself, my face.
I'm looking right in the mirror.
In the reflection.
Looking.
Back at myself. What the hell?
Who the hell?
But is it me?
Me?
I don't know.
I honestly don't.
Don't know what to say.
Who the hell,
the hell is in this reflection?
Reflection?
Is it?
A reflection.
What really is it?
Who really is it?
I don't think it's really me.
I don't know if it's really me.
If it's really my face.
So who is this looking at me?
A stranger?
A psycho?
A monster?
Oh.
But do we really know that this is us,
what we look like, who we are,
in the reflection.
Who really are we?
We really don't know.
Everything could be all a joke.
It must be all a joke.
I don't know.
I'll never know.
I don't know who this is in the reflection.
I don't know me.
Is this me?
It is very deceiving.
