Who am I

The scars I bare are not the kind that can be seen.
A fake smile across my face. Something that most don’t know.
A fake pre sauna. A lie. Or maybe just a face I’m so used to making it seems to be true to the audience that’s looks apon me. Eyes are only one real way of seeing into someone soul. Don’t look in mine there’s too much to tell.
What do you know, but what you see.

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