A sad and anti-social media user speaks –

Listened too long to singing sirens of Silicon Valley, their red-hot audio on human benefits – ‘Me’ for all ‘My’ humans.
Joined a band of friendly petitioners, those one-man and one-woman acts with their invisible highs and lows.
Floating faces in a fake book, and it changed its name one day after ‘I’ came in the room.
Found them all, mostly, missing ones, new existences, some strange connected composite-fit lonely stranger gatecrashers.
Known blood was older, it had lines, unknown, and before this, unseen genes, pressed straight.
That same face through history, a similarity stays where it belongs, but can be ungrateful to effort, afraid of strange madness.
I had been in ‘it, was there, in ‘it’, looking around ‘it’, the quick drunk, then a quick regret.
No to long-lasting roads back, back to where everything looked bigger when humans were smaller.
Then let out air on my ‘Raft Enthusiastic’, soon went under willingly, pushed my own head down for a drowning, as my ‘beautiful discovered Blood’ became Lot’s wife.
This had been a work done for kith and kin, and then all the faces forgot me, again; goodbye bloody strangers.

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