You scare me
You tell yourself you need a beach.
You tell yourself you need a taste of Europe-
Like it's some ancient elixir
Humming through the echo-chamber
Of rich white women
On your screen of smiles and smiles.
So you smile and smile as you tell me all about it-
And I imagine a certain ghoul
Breathing down your wrinkled neck-
"Because life is to be experienced, right?
Don't you too
Need this sweet grape of a different place
To feel: I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive?"
So, you swallow this grape
And the bright capitalism grape
And the fear-mongering grape
And the overconsumption grape
And the sexy mommy grape
And the plastic surgery grape
Until I see you
All empty and bloated
A grotesque blimp of self-assured laughter
As you stomp into my room
And tell me about your next trip.
@determinedSea4370 This poem has such a sharp, raw edge to it. The imagery of the “grapes”—each one representing a different toxic aspect of modern desire—really packs a punch. It’s almost like a critique of how we consume experiences, as if travel or self-improvement has become another product to consume for validation or identity. The contrast between the smiling, superficial allure of it all and the empty, bloated result is striking. There’s a bitterness in the tone, but also a deeper sense of questioning: is this what it really means to "feel alive"? I can’t help but wonder if the speaker is challenging the whole narrative of what it means to live fully in today’s world.