And if you're not like them

If you don't frequent nail technicians

And beauticians chasing fashion trends

And social statuses checking in at the newest

Chic and must be seen- "What then" I ask

Like a leper carrying a disfiguring affliction

Hair untamed and face devoid of layers

If you wear second hand clothes because

You like carrying past lives and wondering

Where they're from and if they loved within them

If you are the single in a circle of twos

Nowhere to place you formal occasions

Because you never bring the someone

They can sit you with- "What then" I ask

When you long for an island

And prefer mud to stilettos (trudging

And falling on your arse laughing at age

Having caught up) and they cringe at

Your conversations because they have to think

And not just voice back niceties

Like a peregrine soaring above the communal

Upholding of the glue holding their mutual discontent

(Of course explained away as something to aspire)

You seek out solitude and feed the mind

Rather than targeted expectations and

The few labels they attach you with

There is no reaching you (they've given up

And you've allowed them)

Better this freedom than the twittering

Of news concerning coming trends and

Bullshit