My reflection
Bump I go into the night
Embraced by its awful fright.
A horror filled fixture appears,
with a howl that spins my gears.
It appears with a lonely shimmer
My resolve should be not to look in the mirror.
Mask On or Mask Off I need to feel part of, yet risks unfold, For closeness may invite rejection’s sting. Approval could slip, as if it was...
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