Having a little talk with my mirror.
Maybe it’s about how pretty I am.
They are staring at me,
Questing out my true identity.
A single man in double view,
Astonished me for a minute or few.
Is that truly me?
Unrecognizable, mystified me.
Why is there a dusky intersection,
Hindering my true reflection?
Is that a dual personality,
Or just an imaginary friend of me?
One who holds the mirror to see the truth,
Other who wants to tear it down, piercing through.
One who hates the flexibility,
Other who never misses any opportunity.
They made this scar, this divided line,
Running through my head till my cheeks.
Desperately desired to get separated.
They can’t be parted,
They have to coexist.
They both has to play a role,
As the two of them form the whole.
Via daily prompt: identity