Every morning, my sleep-stained face
Asks me from the mirror just who I am today,
Before my clothes dress in an anonymous me,
Whom everybody seems to
Know and ignore so easily.
I thank the skies for trying to understand
Me with their downpours when I’m low,
Just as much as I could thank
Alcohol that stupidly drinks itself stupid on shots of me
If everybody could paint their insecurities,
I would look over my shoulder at the person next to me and mimic
These tears that compound with the hairs on my cheek will only ever be self absorbing,
And I’ll only ever see them in a distorted glass reflection
Just who are you today?
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