I think I’ve forgotten my face
Or rather I don’t recognise it.
I spent many moments passing by mirrors and reflective surfaces, I think I recall seeing myself in them as I wash my hands, or fix my hair.
Technically I know it’s me, which is perhaps why I didn’t realise the moment I stopped knowing who the person in the mirror is.
The shape is there, the lacklustre hair. Big eyes, puffy lids, lips, nose, teeth.
Mashed together in what should be my identity.
Yet I don’t know her, so it’s back to square one of learning who she is again.