I see deleted accounts in my messages
of poets who once filled my feed
with a constant churning of content
in a modern day hustle for glory
or maybe just an ambitious attempt to be heard.
Regardless, they are gone now
with every word rendered unspoken:
both poem and poet enveloped by distance
when once you could reach out and feel them.
Now, only absence remains.
I hope they have found new meaning,
a purpose which does not drive them to madness
chasing numbers in exchange for their fractured heart,
a life in which a mirror is all the recognition they need –
peace from the endless noise of the internet.
-Zero
