Lost Notes to Self

I wonder if we are all just lost in translation
between the mirror and the soul,
trying to reflect our true selves
and fine tune this blurry image staring back at us
Annoying in its translucence,
like the combination of fog and falling raindrops
collecting on the window of the bus as you attempt to people watch
...I just want to know if shes going to make her bus like I did...
I just want to look out this window and watch life like a movie sometimes
but the lights are too bright in here, and the sky is too grey out there
so as I stare, all I seem to see is myself
The raindrops running down the window on the reflection of my cheeks
have the familiarity of tears
And I realize that I cannot get past myself
because I havent gotten to myself in years.