A False Image

You have a relationship with my social media
It isn’t me…
It’s a portrayal:
Dirty jokes.
Pictures of seconds of my day.

It is a roughly polished and lacking version of my journey,
A stained glass window to my life, colorful and bright.
Where are the conversations about life?
Where are the two-way discussions about troubles and triumphs?
Why do you think you know me when you don’t speak to me?

You have a relationship with “me”
Born of your curated “insight”…
On your terms.
I have no relationship with you.

You don’t hear me cry,
Sobbing over concerns spanning years.
You don’t hear my kindness, my goodness, my gentleness with others.

Why am I defending myself?

You read my words, talk to others about me, smirk, and judge.
You spy, you capture, you gather what you want
You gather what best supports YOUR image of me:

An image of selfishness, deceit, lies, and jokes
An image of one-way communication
And image of a child, a broken woman, years built up without interaction

But I wouldn’t know what this image of yours is…
How can I know what is in your mind?

I am not responsible for the image you have of me in your head.
An image built from a screen.
It isn’t me.

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