The Bathroom At A Party: An Original Poem

I try to be normal, chatting up a stranger,
I ask, "How do you do? How are you?"
Say the right words, make the right faces,
Is it working? Am I good at this?

My cheeks tire of being held
into different levels of appropriateness,
But I don't notice until I am alone,
and my face can be anything it wants to be.

The Bathroom At A Party,
I always find myself here,
The waves of fake hitting me all at once,
It is the only time at the party that I am me

Here I can wipe away the fake smile,
I can frown,
I can be who I actually am and not what I pretend to be.

Is all of this meaningless?
Spending time with people I'm not sure I like,
Small talk and boring activities .

But we were put on this planet
to CONNECT and to LOVE.

I have never been good at all that
I want to drink from the nectar
that is life. I want experience all that there is.

But this lack of connection is something that's missing.
And I try and I try, repeatedly,
going to parties and going to bathrooms
at parties, asking these same questions
over and over again.

I'll never have the answers,
But in my old age, I'll look back
on these days of youth,
remembering, with fondness, the day
I went to a hip party with cool people

But standing in front of the mirror,
in a bathroom at a party,
I swear I could find 100 better ways to spend my time.