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.
The Paramour 