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Irate Watcher
Poems
Oct 2018
Everyone is tryna.
Everyone is tryna
identify
like they might
forget
who they are
and who they
aren't.
Like remembering a password.
It's mentally taxing.
When will they tire
of defining
access to their profile.
Let others define
you.
They are going to
anyway.
What's the point of
insisting you are
who you are,
when all thats left
is what others thought.
when all that's left
is particulates of dust
clinging to a
dusty mirror.
What were flaws,
fondness.
What was treasured,
ill-remembered
What was controversial,
censored,
memories like
s k i p p i n g records.
You know stop
means it's over.
Written by
Irate Watcher
30/F/Denver
(30/F/Denver)
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