Perfect on paper...

Do you feel it through the pages...

How badly I want you to like me?

To think me cool, clever...worthy?

Maybe this is all a ruse, 

unknown to me still 

To fill this hole of empty. 

Cover it up with vanity

To get a pat on the back, to matter 

to someone, anyone, out there. 

Maybe I am grasping at thin air

Looking for a lifeline to hang onto. 

After all, I have few friends and no plans for the weekend. 

All the weekends. 

My outfits are assembled

by way of lottery system and well, 

my hair could be pretty if it weren't for neglect. 

No one is blowing up my phone 

I barely know my ringtone. 

How silly it is, to think myself better

Enlightened, chosen

Because I don't drink or smoke or post. 

But it is here, tucked in my words 

That I am a little bit taller, tad bit shinier

So beautiful, so very beautiful 

Here, in the confines of  this world 

That I gamble, cheat, gloat

My vices are no better for wearing a coat. 

So, dismantle all the monuments 

you've built for me.

See how easily they crumple and fall? 

They're built on paper after all.