Behind a screen

Is it real what we have
As we talk behind a screen?
How could I begin to imagine
What you and I could be?

Glancing at my phone as I wake alone in my bed
My tired eyes see a text which blends in with the rest.
A non-committal message which simply reads ‘Hi,’
From another clichéd profile I matched with last night.

What’s the point in losing days on a chat that just ends
Or perhaps never starts
Or to get left on read?

Maybe they’ll never open my message at all.
Another face forgotten,
A name I never knew.

So I close down the apps to take some time for myself
Only a few days pass but why am I back?
Swiping through endless faces and meaningless words.
Clones of chat up lines and pictures
Voices that aren’t being heard.

I reminisce about forgotten drunken nights at the bar.
Times were better and flirtier,
Bad dancing,
Maybe more than a kiss.
Not a half-hearted message I don’t remember nor miss.

So I wonder while I sit at home, will I ever be seen
Or am I wasting my time meeting strangers behind a screen?

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