I could show you all the stories,

etched on my pale skin,

waiting to be read and

understood by someone

whose name is inked

across my heart.

I could show you all the battles,

that have been fought valiantly,

inside my mind

against pride and prejudice

that inflicted wounds so deep,

but hopefully

they shall be healed

by the medicine of time.

I could show you all

the mysteries from the

darkest crevices of my mind,

which may not be easy to

decipher, but maybe,

one day, you may know

that all the false faces that I keep

aren't the ones I own.