Stick Figures

every scroll through instagram,  

every comment section [hate hate hate] 

makes me want to hurl my phone at a wall 

but I stay. 

’cause there’s important information on there, 

I tell myself. 

in reality 

I’m probably just addicted. 

justifying the indulgence, veiling it in a mask of 

“but I need to know what’s going on.” 

set myself a --- time limit --- sleep mode --- weeks ago --- then go straight to ignore when it pops up 

– boredom, lack of discipline, I tell myself 

– addiction, a voice whispers. 

fake news, fake people, fake fucking world 

and yet – the consequences  

real. 

contortion of facts and contortion of faces 

contortion of bodies, contortion of minds 

contortion until we break 

like stick figures 

in the giant’s hands. 

and they’ll laugh 

and we’ll see that it was never about reality.