I never liked filters.

They always seemed trashy.

I use them anyway.

I make them work.

Authenticity is scarce.

Though it's still there.

You have to sift.

Will you find anything?

A mote of You.

A mote of me?

Am I even there?

Can I see myself?

I'll try to say.

Say what I am.

Self consciousness stops me.

Narcissism goads me.

What is to say?

Poor while male student.

A girlfriend, no job.

I still dream big.

I still limit myself.

I still build walls.

I still think small.

I still hope high.

"O, but one day."

I always tell myself.

I'll change and be.

Achieve, learn, and grow.

I'm a compulsive liar.

Silver tongued and soft.

Lost, silly black sheep.

One of the best.

Can I break out?

Stop my stunting ways?

Side-step my addictions?

Quit biting my nails?

Maybe there is hope.

Some days I break through.

But, always I regress.

At least I know.