• dukkha_art 9w

    Me and Myself

    It's you again,

    I think to myself 
    While staring at the mirror.

    Familiar face.
    Nothing new on the horizon.
    Even Myself left Self.

    Pale skin.
    Cigarette leaning somewhere in between the fingers and the forehead.

    Another mundane excuse to resist
    I have to ask myself that question over and over again.
    Do we exist?