Regardless of myself,
my display case of memories
is a projected facade
Who I claim to be
who I want and wanted to be
but never who I am
As if I could be both
a love poem to an audience of my peers
& an appeasement to my younger self
all at once
You see, I’ve succumbed to rewarding
irony in place of confidence
but where joy was once
overridden by cynicism, by worry,
I will share my cringe and my poetry
regardless of myself or
those I used to seek to please.