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.