I stumble out of bed with
tangled hair and blurry, scrunched up eyes
I brush my teeth
grab the pink and blue contacts
(the ones I can't see out of without
humanity's fakeness)
because the world is blurry without them
I need to wash my face, but
the water is too cold
and my hands are warm and dry
I switch on the lamp, flip open the laptop
ruffle the papers with
the problems and words neatly lined up
row after row after row
I need to do work, but
it's too cold
no, not the weather
just inside,
inside me, where my heart is
so, can I write some poetry?
No no no, the work's due tomorrow
I need to pull my life together
figure out what to do with it,
but, I don't want to do anything
but, I have to do everything
I used to care
but then I realized that I didn't,
wait, I can't let them know that:
that I'm one of those people who
wants to scribble curses and ****** truths no one wants to hear
onto pieces of paper and feed them to the wind,
that I can
look into people's eyes and smile
when really, I want to spit into their faces and tell them how fake they are
what do I want to do with my future?
oh, this and that, tell'em what they want to hear
how you look up to their so called
lives of success and prosperity,
how suffering is
living in the moment while
real happiness
is sitting in a box and staring at a computer screen
talking through gritted teeth because
you might say something wrong,
covering yourself in bright colors
suits, ties, 5 inch high heels, red (not black or white) lipstick
because you might accidentally show them
who you really are
but ****,
you all don't anything real about life
so I hope you live it smiling fake smiles
crying fake tears
laughing fake laughs
living fake
and dying a real death,
because that's what you all
made everyone else do
and that's
what you made me do
and I,
curse you for it.