Fred Aiken Writing

I wish I knew how to be social

but I never got into social media

because of my anti-social disorder

flaring up and scrolling through countless strangers’ posts,

updates,

thoughts,

tweets,

notes,

creating a horizon blinking

every five seconds after another update,

because I can’t help but see nothing

while seeing too much,

getting caught up in everything I don’t like

until I’m still up at 3am while refreshing my exes social media profile

and wondering if she’s as miserable as me

moon makers on a different planet

trying to terraform the wrong civilization

into musical notes that are interrupted by countless

fingers typing down asphalt

placed on precious metal to make

way for the new,

future,

disruption of what was there

now over there

looking out the window at 5am and wondering why I’m up

why am I working today

of all days

why can’t I go back to sleep

why can’t these people make their own coffee

why can’t I have a moments rest

from all the noise

all the sugar pouring out each breath

and screaming children lining up for more and more

until my death

each latte wearing me down

one more day

caffeinated from start to finish

when coffee no longer has an effect

but underscores what I’m to expect

tired, broken, weary to the touch

while all I want is sleep