Year book photos
I can't pretend to be someone I'm not
simply, because I have no idea what “what I am” would consist of.
I can guess, I can point at my past and say,
“here! Here I am!” But really those are just year book photos from high school.
They tell me I had brown hair, and trouble smiling for mechanical 30 milli meter eyes.
If anything,
that uncomfortable half-smile tells me who I'm not.
If that was where I was, then where I am now must be different.
I have moved on since then: now I know what doesn't work.
And so, everything in my past
has become an explicit guideline for who I shouldn't be.
I can't pretend to be someone I'm not
simply, because I have no idea what “what I am” would consist of.
I can guess, I can point at my past and say,
“here! Here I am!” But really those are just year book photos from high school.
They tell me I had brown hair, and trouble smiling for mechanical 30 milli meter eyes.
If anything,
that uncomfortable half-smile tells me who I'm not.
If that was where I was, then where I am now must be different.
I have moved on since then: now I know what doesn't work.
And so, everything in my past
has become an explicit guideline for who I shouldn't be.
posted by seg at 10:04 AM
1 Comments:
Wow...some bad teenage poetry, except it's good and you're not a teenager. You put this in a light different than I saw my past high school days.
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