Mirror, Mirror

Sometimes, I stare at myself in the mirror.

Not to fix my makeup,

Not to pop a pimple,

And not to guess my eye color.

I stare at myself to attest if I am real.

To confirm that this is really reality.

To prove that I am apart of this world.

To verify that I am actually human.

A human living in a purely, naturally, twisted world.

How could it be possible

That a human, as pure and twisted as I am,

Can live amongst morals?

I feel unreal,

I feel misplaced,

But no one gets it.

The mirror is the only way I can see my true self.

Live in my true being for those short moments

Before being ripped back into reality.

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