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Stalwart Dull Sep 2020
Each one of us are suspect
The trick is how are we going to connect
For which we aim victory and do teamwork
But betrayed by the low ping of network

Choose room if it is public or private
Use map for the ship to navigate
Impostors sneaked up on a vent
Took a moment to **** the innocent

It's where we learn to pretend
Laugh 'til the end,
Learn for yourself to defend
Be wise for which your victory depend

Call emergency meetings to discuss
One of us will be eliminated
Five, Four, Three, Two, One SHHHHHHH!
you disconnected
Spadille Sep 2020
A detective woke up from a deep slumber
To only get a glimpse of his wife
Bathing in her own blood, lifeless
It was truly a ghastly sight

Stunned by what he saw
It took him a long time to comprehend
And when he did
He weeped and mourned
He ought to bring her justice

A million questions
A thousand interrogations
Hundreds of suspects
Numerous clues

Time passed by
And the culprit hasn't been caught
Fraustration ate him
And he screamed curses into the abyss in vexation

The day finally came
He now knew who it was
He knew who the monster was
He miscalculated everything

The culprit is starting at his soul
With ****** hands and a devilish smirk
"Good job" it whispered to him
As he started at the reflection of himself
mothwasher Jul 2020
you are not an impostor

**** those bastardly sons of ******* you are not an impostor

i know that you curl your toes under your shoes

hold your breath before you speak

check your laces twice before you step

out on tightrope 8 miles above ground

when you swallow a sentence and chase it with whiskey

trying not to choke on the sharp edges of “not enough”

your stomach bile will vault through your esophagus

in perfect lingual trapeze

stick the landing with ease and say ta da

say everything except what you need

when you rise from your knees

those itchy words will drop

into the soul of your shoes

with which you curl your toes

hold your breath

and check your laces twice before you remember

that you are not an impostor

in front of you are jesters and clowns

and a circus of whistles, bells, and frozen sounds

your shoes will grow three ******* sizes

because a) the grinch ain’t got **** on you and

b) you can do the Charlie Brown to space funk and

see(c) that you have all the room in the world to move your feet

tumble from your tight rope

let the people around you string together bridges and safety nets

go out to the carnival and win some bottle caps

take the stuffed version of you from the prize rack

and sleep well with it at night
Marya123 Feb 2020
'Fake it till you make it', I'm told
As I tremble under the weight of fear
It's a warm statement, yet one so cold
What do I fake if nothing's clear?
The path to success is paved with questions.
Ksh Nov 2019
I have not felt like myself in a very long time.

Instead of a human being, I feel like
a mass of molasses the color of tar,
swinging with old creaky bones
over the edge of a bed that never gets made;
where the sheets pull over the sides
and there's a dip in the middle,
like a hole that was pre-dug in the ground,
waiting for a body to fill the void.

Instead of a student, I feel like
an imposter, walking around in
shoes that are much too big,
typing in notes and little reminders
with fingers that are far too fat and fast;
every click of a button is
ten times too loud, twenty times too disturbing,
and the only thing
that's keeping my senses overloading
from my own **** noise
are my headphones, which die
far too quickly, as if it has also
given up on me.

Instead of a friend, I feel like
a nuisance -- a ratty old thing
that's clinging to whatever affection
is thrown to my general direction;
like a *****, old ragdoll that's just
collecting dust on the shelf,
but no one really wants to throw it out.
Not out of sentimental purposes;
more like they don't want to even touch it,
don't want to have anything to do with it.

Instead of an accomplishment, I feel like
a failure; because all I ever do is start a race
but give up halfway; all I ever say are
affirmatives, never following-through.
I feel like I always just
create more problems the longer I stay,
and even an act of love
rings hollow in my chest,
like the bells of an ancient, empty cathedral
in an abandoned rural town
that has preached of safety and refuge,
but bars the doors closed at the end of every service.

My mother once called me
as beautiful as the moon,
and as radiant as the stars.
But when I look up into the night,
all I can see myself in
is in the black expanse of the empty sky,
and all I want to do is disappear
into that vast nothingness.

Nowhere is better than anywhere I've been.
Philomena Jun 2019
"Now please don't ever be gay, wait no please don't ever turn out crazy. If you were gay we'd always accept you, you know that, just please don't. And please don't be crazy you remember your grandmother, I don't think I could bear it."

You know I do it all for you mom.
I hold my tongue
I don't look at the other girls, not like I used to anyways
I lock myself in dark rooms and let the tears fall
I try to be sane

Truth is I'll never really be what you want me to be.
I'm an impostor to a perfect child.
And while I might never be a perfect girl or a perfect daughter,
I'm doing my best.
I might lie awake at night while horrors race though my mind,
and my body might love soft curves,
and I might never be just like you,
but I'm fighting it with all I've got.
And I know that I can never tell you my true nature,
but I do sincerely wish you could see
all I've done to be what you wanted.
Nayana Nair Apr 2018
I stand here
beneath the secrets piling over me
at the edge, looking at how I spill out of my own body.
Not able to contain myself.
Not able to restain myself
from looking into the darkness,
from looking into the depth of me
where lies the skeletons of many friendships
and one rare love.
Many managed to stay afloat
not wanting to be a part of me,
knowing what I was.
While I just wanted them to stay
for a moment
to tell me what they knew
tell me what I was.
So that I may not feel
like an impostor in my own life.
The place that I run,

And what I run from—

The boundary begins to fade...
—"Impostor" Rob Graves & Michael Barnes
Lou Vaughn Feb 2016
I am completely fascinated by humans:
their behavior
their emotions
their desires
their needs
or at least what they believe to be their needs

So fragile and vulnerable
filled with doubt
weighed down by insecurities
finding joy in the unexpected
always surprised by their own accomplishments
struggling with experiences they thought would be easier
but miraculously solving problems
finding ways to get by
making it through another day

My nights are often filled with lucid dreams
where the whole of humanity is contained within a zoo
They are the rare and exotic creatures I came to admire
...but I feel like a human impostor
A sense of paranoia begins to seep in
like the ominous heaviness you feel before a dream becomes a nightmare
I feel as if they've always known I am not one of them
They've known since the day I was born
They've just been playing along
until someday when my suspicions of self will be confirmed

Maybe that's what death is - the big reveal
Maybe this is how every human feels
Maybe I am human after all
I hope I am
i can take on anyone
their identities
fabricated personalities

i can look like anyone
a stolen selfie
i can claim to be mine

i can change myself
i'm a stranger
you'll never know
Because you never know who the person on the other side of the screen really is.
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