Virtual self
Unrealistic as science fiction.
Out of pieces, like Frankenstein:
Tearing and stitching for perfect picture.
Virtual me has been never dull,
Boring or sore or in troubled matter.
Smart and ironic, I rule the ball
Sparkling around, smiling and chatting.
Time after time the reality yells,
Loneliness eats from inside and itches.
But in the morning the mirror helps
Hiding with make-up the scars and stitches.
to P.S.
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