I say I don’t care what they think of me--
lions don’t lose sleep over sheepish opinions.
So why does my body find more rage then rest when I lay in my bed, 
phone stuck in my palm, next to my head, 
screen burning retinas,
social media keeping present the amnesia that would have me forget
how far I’ve come.
Comparison is fun when you’re on top,
a dragon with poisoned-tipped daggers for teeth when you’re not—
I should stop.

            Stop it.
            Put it down.
No, keep scrolling. 
            This isn’t making you better.
Keep scrolling.
            You are who you are, not what you can prove,
            you don’t need to abuse yourself or hate on anyone else’s moves.
I said keep scrolling.
And hoping.
And moping.
And coping.
Soak it in.
Let your purpose drip.
Like leaky faucets,
the sweetest kind of waste is gradual.

            Stop it. 
            Put it down.
            You shoulda been sleep hours ago.
            Drop the fuckin phone,
            wanna-be-lion crying like a cub 'cause his roar
            ain’t enough to impress the hyenas,

comparison will kill you because you lack patience.

Cover Photo by George Morgan on Unsplash