mentally excising the parts of myself I don’t like.
sometimes I write them out on lined paper –
(blue lines, red margins)
– and ball it up and throw everything
like a basketball through a hoop into
an orange bin. wondering if
I really want to do this. can’t I just
do something that looks cooler? like making
a funk / chill / vent YouTube playlist or
learning how to draw the void hiding behind
a potpourri of abstract expressionist paintings or
being sick in a more, you know, aesthetic way?
something I can monetize or resize to accessorize:
what if I sold trauma healing earrings on Etsy?
I don’t like wasting paper. it’s probably not great for the trees.
and everybody knows you have to be great all the time;
your grief should be geared to the algorithm.
anyway, follow me on Instagram for more of my poetry.
The Imposter's Lament. 