I don’t care, and my face shows it.
I know what I look like, hair that doesn’t care if its curly or straight, eyebrows that don’t know whether to point to China or Zimbabwe.
I’m not a mirror kisser, and my face shows it.
I don’t need to analyze the cherubic innocence gracing my cheeks, the contradicting acne across my forehead, to know they’re there.
I knew you once, eyes that don’t know what color they are, hair much the same.
I guess y