It's silly really
Sifting through picture
After picture
Just trying to find
The perfect image
To sum me up.
I don't even know
What it is that I'm
So desperately seeking after.
I've forgotten my purpose,
And doomed myself to choose
An image, not of me,
But of something else
Because honestly,
Using an image of myself is
technically me,
But I'm so much more than an image.
Sometimes I think
It would be better
To choose a random object,
Than a mere reflection of the hypocrite inside.

The rain pitter-patters outside,
Just out of reach.
It sounds hauntingly similar
To the click-clack of mother's heels,
Before she left last February.
Perpetually out of reach...
Just like the pitter-patter of the rain.


*I hear the pitter-patter,
click-clack,
but it's somewhere in the distance.