SCREENED.

Scrolling, scrolling, endlessly scrolling—

Is it endomorph, mesomorph, or am I just silly old me?

Not too good to fit in, falling below the scales….

and no, not because of my weight.

The search bar is my confessional, my mirror,

Each query a desperate plea for validation.

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What shape fits the ideal today?

Perfectly aligned angles, flawless proportions—

Every click a small hope, a new possibility,

Every new ranking a fresh standard to meet.

_____

I dive into lists, into posts and opinions,

Hoping for a match, hoping to fit somewhere,

But the categories shift, the definitions blur.

What was perfect yesterday is inadequate today.

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Is my nose the right shape? My lips full enough?

Do my teeth align with the smile everyone adores?

I compare my legs to the latest trend,

Seeking a body that matches an ever-moving target.

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Friends’ compliments and scriptures validating my worth—

Promises reassurance, but it’s never enough,

The mirror reflects the gaps I can’t bridge,

Each glance a reminder of what I lack.

_____

I join communities, seek tribes, try to fit,

Desperate to belong to a group that values me,

Yet the standards evolve, the bar raises higher,

Perfection is always one search away, never quite here.

_____

The validation I crave slipping through my fingers,

Each click another reminder of the gap,

Between who I am and who I’m told to be,

Endless searching yet always more to find.

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So I scroll, I search, I chase perfection,

A cycle of doubt and fleeting praise,

In the mirror of the screen, I seek myself,

But the reflection remains just out of grasp.

A never-ending cycle of comparison

In a world where beauty is curated to live only beyond the screen.

____

This screen, a mirror of curated lives,

Everyone staring into one large reflection,

Look away lest you become like them,

Trapped in the curse.

____

This is me, and I am real—

The standards outside are shallow and fleeting.

I can find my place, not by chasing shadows,

But by navigating beyond the screen.