A life without selfies
Location
In my pictures I seem happy and joyous
never without a smile
or a hand to hold
but underneath all the filters
and the million tons of makeup
I cease to exist
I stay in my room
and blast music until my eyes are void of tears
I scratch paper with my pencils
to make the pain that I bear go away
I may be a smiling “all is good” buffoon
in my color corrected
pixelated selfies
but I am not that person
I am a concealed masterpiece
who cries their self to sleep
and who laughs at almost anything
but who will be angered at the slightest nasty comment
No matter what I look like in my selfies,
I will never forget the intricate person that inhabits this body