At the bar
Intended to be a departure from the suburban mundane
But instead it substantiates the mundane
The faces symmetrical, mirror images of the retail banners that splash across my vanilla algorithm
Age, sex, location, all generating the toothy grins selling me a life designed
By marketing interns hired to sell tech vests and minimalistic twin sets
Perfectly suited for the coasts of Maine
I’ll never be that
I’m just the girl behind a whiskey on the rocks
Trying to reconcile my neurotic thoughts of trauma and discontent
With the expectations of this perfectly attractive population generating the national GDP
I work as twice as hard
My thoughts generating triple the effort of these plastic bodies
That diminish mine as I walk through the door
Who created the haves and have nots?
The lines of delineation tearing through my flesh as I strive to please them all
At work, at home
In the past, the present
God help the future as it hobbles through lessons never learned
We smile as we try to ignore our inevitable demise
The smile heals
At the same time that it hurts
And lies
And pushes the mess under the bed
Until the next time we all need a good old fashioned meltdown
As if we never saw it coming