Swipe left, swipe right,
a museum of faces,
curated lies behind glowing screens—
smiles frozen, eyes retouched,
taller than they stand, thinner than
the truth they\'ll never tell.
A second date built on
the scaffolding of deceit,
year-old pictures in borrowed lighting,
a jawline that’s long
since dissolved into the
softness of too many nights
with Netflix and beer.
Everyone screaming,
“Pick me, love me,
desire what I pretend to be.”
They pencil in their illusions,
height and charm bleeding
through the cracks of
their secondhand bravado.
It’s a hungry world out there,
and what isn\'t eaten outright
is sold wholesale—
lies polished to shine
like something worth
holding onto in the dark.