My best side, my right side.

I tried the left, couldn’t get the angle

Hours in the mirror, hair down, hair behind my ear,

I felt alone, so I snapped a pic.

Upload.

See? I’m not bored at home.

I’m pretty and wise, #lookatmysoul

Hold my breath, hit send, and breathe out: notification.

Saturday. Out with my childhood bestie.

You know her, weird, but fiercely loyal.

“Smile, say cheese”.

Um, yeah, send it to me…

Please.

Please don’t upload that picture.

My comment might sting, but what’s one friend?

I have eight-hundred and ten.

Morning ritual. Check the social media.

Is that her? Are they dating?

Everyone’s life, so exciting. What am I doing with mine?

That’s right. Nothing.

Shame.

Post a picture.

#notlame

Always the same.

Pull away from the computer. It hurts to look.

Remember in eighth grade? Best friends?

Quick, think of something witty.

What was that thing I said?

Cool.

Everyone laughed, I’ve got to tweet it.

No wait, live in the moment.

Just delete it.

Introspection. How many hours out of sunlight?

How many hours, into the night?

My life is so public, so false, I don’t recognize-

How can I maintain such insatiable heights?

Unplug.

Take a step back, say a nice word.

Validation this way is absurd.

Rewind. Hang with a friend.

Share my news, her validation, sinks in.

No anxiously checking the number of likes.

Just one friend, agreeing I might.

Might.

Have a meaningful life.