Growing up in a digital age, I can’t believe that even I’m to the point of disconnecting from our own, manmade cyber world.
Perhaps I’m the youngest one in this age,
The idea of hanging up, putting away the prepay
Unwinding fingertips crippled by chronic keyboards,
Typing away each final breath.
Maybe I’m alone,
This new advocacy for self-help in a digital plain,
Deleted, rewriting, and disconnecting ones image,
Easing away the physical pain
I ponder the amount of dates gone by,
Talking to him across tabletops,
Screens rolling past his vacant eyes,
How many times has he whispered to her,
In the midnights twilight,
Understanding she heard nothing,
Except the comedy routine from YouTube’s limelight
Twisted, dark deceptive life
Full of zeros and ones,
A binary cry,
Calculated cost of communication cut short,
We cut the cord,
But we never hung up
Curious cursors cruise across screens,
Imaging imaginary ideas,
Reality no longer desirable,
Photoshop, ragtag pieces of former cut, cropped, cropped tops,
Litter to the mind
Days erased and night now rotten,
Glassy eyed empty souls,
Twisted membranes of cellular display,
Underline the world lost,
The love forgotten.
Unplug the warped reality,
A cyber crime unwinding in the minds eye,
Take up a natural life,
Block out the screen,
Turn off the lie.
-D-