My Life as a Filter

My life as a filter

would be rosy and bright

all forehead wrinkles, etched in by anxiety, would be airbrushed out

the frown lines on my face, worn in by waves of depression, eroded away

a tweak to contrast would soften my angry edges

a subdued version of me would be on display

heralding in love and light and better days.

I would be the grass on the other side that is always greener.

I would be the fountain of youthful positivity

I would sand over the callous of many nights up in toil and tears and terror

I would be beautiful in my simplicity

I would be the golden debutant, better seen than heard

I would be ease–

But it’s not easy to appear forever at ease

it’s a set of calculated movements meant to erase the human out of humanity

what’s left is I Try Yet again to make problems look small

to make myself look more gorgeous than I feel as I look at all the other filtered bodies on my feed

to be simple and silent

easily digestable

not a problem

only an answer to the question: how do I look and feel better?

Why darling, just a smile and a filter is all I wear.