A shiny mirror facing me, like an invisible audience peeking through
I’ve forgotten the lines on my forehead, the blemishes on my cheeks
the thin lines under my eyes, now staring back at me.
As if to remind me, that I’m continuously aging as I write these
words on a stark white paper, so perfect, so absent of
blemishes and imperfections.
I wanted to ask this person staring back at me in the mirror
do I know you? Have we met before? Are you happy? or are you just
floating around like the dusts in the air.
I stared at my legs, have they been a part of me? Have I neglected them? Have I taken them for a long walk lately?
This person in the mirror seems familiar but also seems strange.