The Ruse

On social media, or something.

I wish for you
The very best

May all your dreams 
Burst the seams
Of your overflowing 
Treasure chest 

Except sometimes
When I feel sad
Or mad, I stab
My jagged edge
And feel the wedge 
It spreads,
Instead 

And then I want 
The very worst
The plastic figures 
To be rehearsed 

The happy moments 
Staged and sparse 
Just wrapping paper
And a filter, 
Art 

And I think the truth 
Is in between 
A wicked coup
And your portrayed 
Dream 

I sigh
I lie
I don’t wish you ill

But why—
You fly high
As I climb
Up the hill 

Oh yeah, it’s true
I struggle too
Don’t believe
What you see 

It’s just highlights
Not me 

And the you 
I knew
Is in there, too

Or maybe that’s 
Just the ruse

©Rachel Nasatka. All rights reserved. You can’t have her she’s mine.