A Life Only Imagined

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A Life Only Imagined

 

The ability to create the best version of ourselves is right at our fingertips —

    choosing the best moments,

         the best lighting,

             the best filters.

 

That horrible night, the one where that horrible thing happened that left you utterly heartbroken is a thing no one will know about because who will share the ragged, fragile edge of this precious thing called life. We are all puppets, thinly secured by just a thread. Most of us make it through the show unscathed, but others fall through the cracks. And who can blame them? For the pressure and angst of living can become too much in less than a heartbeat.

 

No — we all want the world to see how grand, how adventurous and sweet our lives are.

But behind all of our saturated and contrasted photos, we are all the same unsatisfied human beings looking for that missing piece. 

 

We all want happiness and love and kindness and laughter. We want a love that is not only passionate, but eternal. We want riches, but not only in money but life. We want to dip our fingers in prosperity we can only imagine.

 

We post the pictures that portray the best of our lives because we wish that was true. 

No one wants to admit the difficulty of this insane, confusing, but lovable life we live.

 

So, we continue on — editing, editing, editing snapshot after snapshot until we find the most perfect one.

 

For underneath all of it, the pain and yearning for perfection will never fade.

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world

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