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

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.

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 hastag popular tags so they can all see
The better side of me

A message to the past and the future
not for the faint of heart, crass.
A lonely whisky bottle made for rapture
now floating towards capture

enraptured for the cycle of life.
Cyclical and lyrical mysticism,
lyricists binding ciphers, skinning with a knife
ride through a maze with the pied piper, don’t fight.

We idolize with holy reverence what a reference,
follow around with perseverance and benevolence.
I got a secret for you that might kick up some dirt,
But, hush, don’t get too constipated ’*** this might hurt,
Listen, here is the deal:

Head towards your following,
amass your biblical seal,
but you’ll get knocked down with zeal,
and you’ll feel the loving embrace of fear!

Cyclical and lyrical mysticism,
lyricists binding ciphers, skinning with a knife
ride through a maze with the pied piper, don’t fight.

What dispirited purpose cups to my ear
Or orifice sufficed at being a sense of the world
What hands can claim to be my lips
Speaking to the world they claim to feel

What broken envy feels
Those scattered ivy fields
Of hopeful grey sent on its way
Of years and months poured into the day?

What gotten fear keeps me
Chained cherish to the time I should
Be walking on to other things
That make me feel the good?

I found a barrow cut by the wheel
And ghoul-hands rotten roots a-reach
From smoothed walls cut to seem rough
And grief for spirits frothing at the ducts.

I found some feeling of myself
Sippy-cup filled with mediate dreams
I made up words to keep myself from gotten
I sank into quicksand on my back