This is a poem about the search for self in our submerged adolescent dreamland seen through beer-goggles and pixelated self-consciousness.
"I tried to drown my sorrows, but the bastards learned how to swim."
Hiding behind a shot of vodka
Or a computer screen
And by I, I don't mean the girl, boy, or "it" you see, I mean me.
The one I buried deep within the fortifications of my façade
It's like the first time I realized I was
From the rest that I wasn't
Like the rest
That, as my mother said, no one could ever love me but she,
Certainly not me.
See the superficial expressions of affections
Through the binoculars of anti-social media
In which I try to define myself by beautiful photos
Like the ones Emily B. from my third grade class
To whom I'd always come in second would post.
Drink a Rum and Coke and
Dance in the kitchen to
Songs I'm ashamed to name.
I step on stage and I'm naked.
I want to wear the face that the whiskey would give me
And hide behind the liquid confidence that would hit me
But I would slur,
And these words require clarity.
Even I don't know how I feel.
I've been spewing lies and social constructions
That only contribute to my own destruction
And I just want to see what's here.