So you sat there with your head, and rolled out your 26
cleaved them with apostrophes and peppered them with “this”
and this...
You arranged them in your rhythm and posted them online
where a thousand eyes took in your shapes
giving back two thousand times.
Those times by times a thousand,
enough moments to build a life,
made a monster from your stories,
beamed it back through your device.
Surely you've felt it behind you,
when logged on alone at night?
A slight breeze just feet away,
that flickering past the light.
Have you not even noticed,
how it's brought you to a wreck?
Dragging you down deeper,
whispering 'check, go and check.'
Your screen's now but a menu,
and your keyboard is its dish,
'twill pester and punish you,
til you save and hit publish.
Can't you feel when it is hungry,
that tightness in your throat?
It's dug into your mind to scream
and fight for one more vote.
Because it wants to grow an army
until your head is thick,
your space becoming cloudy,
your thoughts a bowl of bisque.
Then this increasing volume
will be pressed into a form
a freshly conjured creature,
undeniably your spawn.
How cute - but who can say,
what the sum of your own words
and imagination crave?
Is it only for pure evil
or just looking for some fun?
While baying from the darkness,
to 'Wake up and Log back on!'
