Imperfections
Truth is, I don’t let anyone see the real me.
Because if I did that, I’d have to let my walls drop.
I’m like a shattered mirror, and each broken piece is a different part of me.
Call me fucked up if you want, it doesn’t bother me.
Sure, I have a way with words on paper but that’s because I don’t speak.
I won’t let you inside my mind.
I locked the door and threw away the key.
That look in your eyes is hatred so don’t you dare say you fucking love me.
Your voice is like poison, it makes my ears bleed.
Your face constantly haunts me in my dreams.
They say that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself, but why didn’t anyone ever warn me that one day, I might fear myself?
I can’t look into a mirror without fearing my own reflection.
The demons of my past taunt me with haunting thoughts.
Everyone says that being yourself makes you perfect but what if all I see are imperfections?
