Blank faces in the midst of beautiful sounds, 
A thousand unread emails, eyeballs glued to the screen,
A pirouette daze, ghosting on fleck,
Giving it that bespoke hipster cred,

Entangled, encrypted, salty speech,
I cry to my social feed, a more vapid abyss,
A mirror profoundly remiss in its connection to this,
I'm hearing only myself tearing through a mist,

No heart, no conscience,
Just rage feeding, hashtags and memory lags,
An afterimage mangled by algorithms.
A fractured life sold in parts,