Erase me, lose me, a lie

I remember the day I met you,

And how you said we had matching Instagrams.

One day, once we get old and decrepit,

Maybe I’ll decide I’m done listening

To your translation of what happens in the “real world”,

And how sublime you want your life to be:

Forever stretching basic choices into a chronic state of insecurity,

With the hope that if you act just a little more clueless,

It won’t come off as faking.

Your cutesy routine

Of what happiness entails

Seeking always more places to talk about it,

Is the maggot under my skin.

Just do what you have to do,

I want to say,

But you wouldn’t,

You couldn’t,

You “can’t”.

You spin rebellion like it’s some intoxicating and fiery cocktail,

And invite every one of us to play house

Because you can’t grow up.

Everything isn’t divine,

Everything isn’t earthy.

Sometimes life is a paycheck.

Maybe the reason your life feels empty

Is because the conventional is too conventional to get lost in,

And you live your life trying to accumulate dinner party stories.

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Published by

haleynoohra

I am a second-grade teacher and pastor-to-be who loves people. I spend my weekends with friends or wandering the museums of DC alone and with a journal, trying to put words on the places of the soul that still feel wordless. I spent most of my days at school trying to learn patience through my students and running on sheer nerdy passion. I follow Jesus Christ, and savor that as my most important identity--that I am a child of God, as are infinite others, regardless of their other identities. Christ is my one thing.

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