Experience. Not you but
Someone like you.
Orange-like juices, mango-like
Flavors. Not the jasmine but
Jasmine-like lavendars.
Everything is either a fancy
Of calculation or at most a
Guided miscalculation.
Like a theme park offering
Experience of a forest with
Different packages for
The sea breeze and that of
Mountains.
We don't know what it's like
To be lost these days.
Through the unknown paths,
We don't know what it takes
To figure out our ways.
We don't know what we feel
About ourselves really, as
We've seen innumerable reels.
And we don't know what to
Feel about others as we've
Consumed content on DIY too.
Standing in front of the mirror,
With whispers of people
Who don't really matter.
You look at your reflection in
Contemplation, to assure yourself,
How you don't like the idea
Of you, in pursuit of someone
Like you.
A wife for someone like you,
A house for someone like
You would have loved.
Before you transition into
Someone else entirely,
You still got time to exhume your
Corpse from beneath these
Layers of pretense.
Blow him to life, give him
A nice shower and buy a better
Mirror that can give away
A clean, naked image to save
Yourself from a misdirection.
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