Disclaimer: This is spoken word!
Identity theft. A term used to describe someone who steals another person's identity or other people's lives. And, unfortunately, he was a thief. I could see it in his eyes. For he was not himself, but his best friend; his neighbour, whomever he needed to be, to finally be liked.
His parents were confused; they couldn't keep up. They were left wondering who this person was because he was not their son. He was not the boy they raised; it was like he was possessed. He felt guilty, leaving them in the dark, but they wouldn't understand. Plus, it was already done; he was now not himself, but a little bit of everyone.
His mum had to fight for his attention, a battle between her and his phone. "Who are you?!" She demanded to know. But he couldn't tell her, "I'm the person everyone wants me to be." so he shrugged it off and left for his room.
The truth is, he didn't know the answer; all he knew was that he was trying to be the cool guy. He thought to himself, "I don't deserve this" I'm a fake! A phoney! Who am I?!
He was lost.
School was great other than going from straight As to Cs. He had constant invites to go out, drowning in popularity.
He was pulling all of the girls, befriending all of the guys. He was hiding in everyone's shadows, yet somehow he was finally in the spotlight. He went from being himself, to what he thought was the best person possible.
It felt like he was fighting a battle, between himself and his mind. Should he stop the act? Should he listen to the devil on his left shoulder, or the angel on his right?
Everyone who had once cared about him was pushed aside. He threw his best friend under the bus when it was his turn to shine. He didn't realise that he had now surrounded himself with people who were just as fake as he was.
All of the attention was feeding him so much pride. He thought to himself, "I don't deserve this" I'm a fake! A phoney! Who am I?!
He was lost.
It was as if he was chasing something that didn't exist. Like running on a treadmill, yet expecting a different destination once finished. Despite finally being popular, he felt even worse than he did when he was a nobody. He was cool now; he was finally liked. Isn't that enough? But some people still wanted more from him.
"WHAT A SCAM!" He emitted a squall. They wanted too much; they wanted it all. Acting like his peers didn't work as well as he had hoped. He needed a way to steal the show, to convince people that he was just like them.
He went home after school, what could he do now? What could he trial? He started stealing from people in magazines, head-to-toe, a brand new style. More and more he'd take from others; characteristics, language, hand gestures- whatever they had, that he didn't.
"This should do the trick," he thought. But despite his efforts, he still fell short. He tried so hard, but someone always had something to say. He just wanted to please everyone, hungry for validation.
He could no longer recognise the man in the mirror, and he let out a sigh. He thought to himself, "I don't deserve this, I'm a fake! A phoney! Who am I?!".
He was lost.
The voices in his head were telling him he was running out of time. That he needs people to like him or else he will end up being an even bigger loser than to begin with.
There was too much pressure; he had reached his limit. "WHEN WILL IT BE ENOUGH?" He started to shout. Should he listen to the voices? His mind was full of doubt.
Constant assimilation, a quite remarkable skill really. This wasn't him, but it was too late; he surrendered, "nothing can heal me".
He spent the entirety of his childhood afraid of the monsters under his bed, but now the only monsters were the ones in his head.
He fell deeper into the darkness, an expense he couldn't afford. That's what you get, living life as a fraud. "Why me?" He questioned, sad and in disbelief. But it was his very own doing, by becoming a thief.
He was a fake, a phoney. Who was he?
He studied people, trying to find out how to be 'perfect' but at what cost?
As the more he found, the more he became lost.
YOU ARE READING
Scribbles, Thoughts, and Doodles.
PoetryA collection of mostly poems and a few stories. I will be continuously adding to this as I experience life and need a creative outlet to express myself. I hope this reaches people who can relate, and if you can't, I hope you get to know me as you vi...
