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