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Kewayne Wadley Mar 2018
To a point of trust.
There is no such barrier as insecurity.
In over one hundred pictures you are free to do as you please.
Intuition doesn't lie.
A sudden sensation that strikes out the blue.
Theres no need for passwords or indiscreet glances.
A rare case trust comes into question.
A certain closure that adjusts to a overwhelming thought.
A sudden reach or pull confirms this serious accusation.
Things change.
A subtle glance to remember the way things use to be.
In over one hundred different pictures I witnessed your body language begin to change.
In over one hundred different ways you hid pieces of yourself behind a password.
In a world where we are free to do as we please.
You decided to hide yourself.
Second guessing that truth would never find the light.
Appearing against the phone of a random stranger.
Another secret.
A light to peek through the crevice
jack of spades Feb 2018
i collect snapstreaks like monopoly properties, hoarding them to their fullest, raking in the numbers like they are the thing keeping me floating. a drop in number means a decrease in value, as if my friendships have numerical value. it’s all about putting myself on other people’s VIP lists and keeping them off my own. i never realized how great a desire i have for control until i got a sick sort of happy seeing that emoji telling me, “you’re on their top eight best friends list, and they’re not on yours.” what is this, myspace? i play it like it’s a public social media page but in reality what makes it so sweet is the fact that only i get to see it.
or maybe i just like knowing i’m important, at least to somebody. maybe if they see my contact name at the top of the list every time, then they’ll want to talk to me. maybe it’s less like chess pieces, piling up pawns, and more like sitting on the corner singing old sad love songs with a hat out to catch pennies. these interactions add up to pennies. we’re still playing monopoly, i think, but why is all this property not adding up for me? why am i still losing money when i should be, by all accounts, winning? maybe i just need to start another streak.
Julian Revà Feb 2018
I recently have noticed
how sick I look on you
everytime you post a pic
or share a moment

I look sick following you
Everytime that you try
to make your life apart
I look sick when I follow you
not through dark alleys
but on twitter, facebook
or instagram

I am not used to write
odd modern poetry
but you deserve a reason
to why I started
unfollowing you

So, everytime you upload
a last-night-party pic
I want you to know I won't be there
looking for every guy you were
hanging around with

Because lately I've noticed
that I look sick not for following you
                                            exactly
but for being aware
of what you were doing

I'm sick of being a post
instead of being a memory
I'm sick of social media
and their way of twisting things

Making us more a number or dates
instead of making us "friends"
(who says that you can't be friend with your ex?
maybe ancient rules, maybe an idiot
with post-traumatic-relationship-stress)

I'm sick of "follows", "tweets", "likes"
ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends

I'm unfollowing you for my health
I'm unfollowing the entire world 'cause
constantly they remind me to you
with all their fake friends and ***** guys
and ***** girls; ******* attention that
maybe they don't truely deserve

Yeah, probably I should unfollow the world
                                                     for my health
luxe Feb 2018
Owl
Nighttime is not lonely
Until everyone else is asleep
And you live in the city
And all the cars are busy
And the stars are drowned out
And social media creates different images
Snapshots of people's lives
Making it seem more busy then it is
And the mountain air is pushing the trees around
And i realize I am longing for the same hold
The wind has on its branches
And it is painful to see everyone fade into their dreams
When I am up
And I am up because everyone fades
And because I can not keep feeling that loss
and the moon is hiding behind the clouds
and I begin to see
how much I have relied on its glow
to illuminate me
and when my eyes start to close
and I lay my head down
and for a second I think I can do this
and then I see
everything I do not want to see
and then........


the nighttime is not lonely
Until you are lonely and it is nighttime
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
Man frozen in Time
Tangled in the Timeline

Next, Great Debate.
Genre: Haiku
Ruth Jan 2018
How many likes am I worth?
How many swipe rights can I get,
How many super honest, friendly people,
Have I ever met?

Lights, camera, caption,
trying to reach my goal,
40,000 subscribers!
Take my instagram poll!

Should I post this selfie?
I might delete it soon,
thought that I looked cute,
but it sure wont make him swoon.

I have refreshed my page,
50 times since the start,
the want for more likes,
is tearing me apart

If I get 1,000 followers,
I will feel complete,
Does what I say matter
without a single retweet?
zoe mae Jan 2018
she peeled fishnets off widespread thighs
quivering with pain and vulnerability
covered her camera lens with them
a facade of perfect popularity
Naked Writing Jan 2018
DM
You slide into my inbox
and I roll my eyes
thinking how our ancestors
would roll in their graves
under wildly blooming roses
the kind of fragrant bouquets
they gave one another
on a first date
a gesture of courtship and respect

they would be so disappointed
in the way their Shakespearean love
has devolved
into self-involved
narcissistic
lazy digital foreplay

you can save your DM
for someone else;
I will continue waiting
for my rose.
Insta: @nakedwriting
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