A Muttered Reflection

cerulean fuckstick (1 of 1)

Looking back
Into my sullen gaze
Stares a pale placebo
Of reticulated intent
In start contrast its thought
To discriminate nature
My eyes drift below
Searching for recognition
But none was there

My very own face
A misty mystery
For whats looking back is not my own
But only that of a cracked shell
Bleached by suns very thought
And eroded by strain.

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