Frame

I can smell 
the scent of my youth
the breeze of summer 
only me and you
draging my wonky past 
and my twisted truths
I didn't know back then
how little I knew....

Today I wake up 
no much have changed
I'm still insecure
and I respond to my name,
the imagen in the mirror
gives my wrinkles a frame
nothing is that different
but nothing is the same...

It is hard for me to believe
that I was alone all this time
wandering like a ghost 
on the streets of my life 
not knowing if I existed
or if I was a walking lie
who was dreaming the dream
of being alive.

Jessica

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