Five minutes until the camera starts rolling
my home was not your home too.
they never seem to understand that.
staring at a silver screen doesn’t bring us
eye to eye
i’m not close enough to touch.
there’s distance between us
distance that we can’t make good
not when you’re
just a number on the screen beside
me and I’m
only a walking talking
piece of entertainment for a bored
i’ll laugh and laugh and laugh
holding up some gizmo to the screen like
a piece of meat for purchase
and you’ll act like you know me
we’ll pretend like it’s just a game.
there’s nothing fun in this
entreating before the camera
as if on scraped knee before an emperor
begging for jewels and pay.
only the steady tic of subscribers rewards me
your views are newfound joy
so please keep watching
pretend you see me and I’ll
pretend I see you.
my home is not your home
i am not your friend
that’s the thing they never understand.
Hi, gang! Today we’ll be going to –
Screen cuts to black.
This poem was probably inspired by a conversation I had with my sister earlier today about the way culture evolves very quickly and how I (21) see the internet very differently to how she does (15).