It's a thousand tiny cuts that you receive
From the moment you're born
Waiting for someone to tell you that you are beautiful.
You yearn to stay youthful
You've learned the indisputable fact.
Your inherent value as a person
Reduced to your physical appearance
And given a numerical value online
For what is a selfie without it likes?

This is enough to make anyone cynical
Because everyone is the enemy
Like buskers on a busy street
All are competing for the attention
Of the passing indifferent crowds
All singing to be seen, to be known
Even just for one fleeting moment

It is a strange but primary emotion of the human condition
Decreed at birth to need validation
And this foundation is firmly instilled in us.
We never learn to fuss about it, as society reminds us
That there is nothing to discuss.
Sign up and accept the terms and conditions.
Show yourself to the world.
Nothing beats the sensation of adoration.
Even now, right now, I am showing myself to you.

So tell me I'm pretty, world.
Tell me I matter.
Tell me I exist.

I despise social media.
It's ugly, to state the obvious
Our lives are posted, re-tweeted, altered, re-blogged, perfected, and photo shopped to exactly how we want to be perceived
We have the freedom to be exactly what they want us to be.

It starts with a few edits doesn't it,
pigmented our skin to seem smooth and sun kissed,
that would seem most acceptable right?
Maybe an extra like for the skinnier waist.
More reassurance for brighter colors.
Some more filters will hid the emptiness you feel with your friends
   Another like
Flashier clothing, phones, shoes, cars, other simple words our eyes have latched on to
     Another like
We urge ourselves to portray the life of leisure and effortless beauty, happiness, success,
       Another like
But what are we enjoying?
         Another like
Views of our changing world through a 3 by 8 view.
           Another like
Events pass by swipe
             Another like
and swipe
               Another like

And when we managed to unlock ourselves from this grasp
We always come back
Like flies to light, more like scratches to a scab
Festering we find ourselves getting ****** back in
To an imaginary world, that if destroyed, would have no physical effects on their fictional beings
For without this world, maybe eyes will open
We will step past the boundaries,
and start to love our beings
unfiltered

I'll save the poems of deepest despair
for when you are dead or gone.
You are my only friend and someday
I might be your wife if you survive.
I'm committed to you for the long term.
Today I have logged out of all my
Social media accounts I won't return.
I don't want to see my nieces and
nephews grow up on Facebook
knowing I'll never see them in real life.
I don't want to deal with my Aunts
bouts of jealousy because she is being
mentally abused by her husband.
I don't want to feel a hacker looking
over my shoulder when I like a post.
I don't want to be reminded of all the
people who won't talk to me because
I don't have a job and think I'm the blame.
Facebook calls them friends.
Instagram calls them followers.
To me it's all the same they are fake.
I'm most likely fake to them too.
Honestly people it isn't an insult.
The hacker has won because I'm back
inside of my cave once again.
It's amazing how isolating social media is.
God won't answer my prayers for peace
but I don't believe he is mean at all.
Someday there won't be anymore
humans in my life that is a fact.
I doubt that I'll survive but then
again everyone has to die someday.
The feeling of wanting to die is
like crashing through a glass door.
Maybe I am more emotional
because I am going down to a
Lower dose of prednisone but
this doesn't make all that I wrote
any less true.

the greatest gift anyone can give you is time
in a world where attention is the new currency

- what i have learned from social media

not so long ago
they made you feel
not so alone

before
the compulsive criteria
of social media

and the claustrophobia
that comes
when you can understand people
but not love them

Now
It sits in a blind corner
like a forgotten foreigner
mentioned in sentences
that start with
"remember back when..."

The lesson of technology is to go with the flow

The lesson of time is in old and fading photos
where you are holding
a landline phone and
pretending to
talk

Hashtag my soul away, so many can see it
I’m waving my hands saying hey look at me
Posting pics, statuses and videos
Can’t do it quietly
I want them all to See
Envy me and make me their fantasy
A few likes on this post is not enough
I deserve to get liked like I’m roylaty
adore me while you stare at the pictures
I spent hours cropping, adding more filters to guard my insecurities
Before I hashtag it, I dress it with perfection
Cut out any ugliness, clean up the mess
Show the world purity
because if they see the negative
their words will expose my insecurities
Behind this screen I found a secured me
That is the side I only want them to see
So I hashtag popular tags so they can all see
The better side of me

Almost asleep when my phone ticked;
'A notification,' it says.
Your name was there, you liked my photo.
And my stomach drowned in butterflies--
Scratch that--moths, surely they're moths.
Stronger, buzzier, like your power
To occupy and stay in my brain
With that single heart emoji beside your name.
Thinking that the double tap
Is as if you love me just the same.