I'm kinda screwed up
I bet you can't tell...
The walls of my room know it all -
They see my obsessive little life
And hear what I talk about
All day, afterall

Or maybe you could ask the clock
I stare at her, more often than not
She glares back at me
When I haven't been taking care of the time she keeps a track of
Nevermind actually; 'cause she'd never make me sound like a rad cloth

Then, maybe you could ask the lamp
He's the one;
Who reads what I write
When it's way past midnight

But I hope you never ask the mirror,
It sees right through me
For it knows a lot -
More than what the walls hear
More than the time the clock witnesses; go sheer
And more than when the pen in my hand turns into a spear
It looks me in the eyes when I cry
It knows when I'm forcing a smile
Also, when I'm pacing and sighing
For, it sees me when I FEEL
Not only when I SHOW
Because it's me...
I'M the mirror
Honestly, who ELSE COULD create a reflection clearer?

But, even though if you end up asking anyway
It'll turn into YOU
And the flaws you're willing to find in me
Would present you a LONG TAPESTRY
Of your own self esteem

Because, I lied... It's never the mirror
It's always what you believe; you see
© Sifat K

#writco #writer