Facebook

The jerking nausea of old embarrassments.
“Friend,” a funny word, a mask for meanness.
Click. Open memories of cold judgments.
Feeling: naïve. Feeling: ugly. Feeling: worthless.
True friends, give guilt when I forget to say hello.
And if it’s them neglecting me, my insides twist.
For if they neglect me, am I just for show?
Do they see me one more number on their list?
The ones who want me, my prudish family (Mormon)
Force me to alter what I write. I must refine
My image. Twenty favorites into five. Into none.
An “about me” section of one line.
I’ll delete this misread girl’s biography.
I’ll blank my profile out into a mystery.

(Franka Hayes)