Internet Slave

Daddy never was around and mama used to struggle.
She never should have seen the things she seen when mama used to hustle.
Go through the things she went through for some food on a plate.
At times she would want to sacrifice a meal so mama didn't have to come home late.
The way mama sometimes looked at her, you could see that all the love she once had, had turned to hate.
Then one day mama looked at her and said, 'Baby girl, soon I'm going to need you to be brave."
Without no fault of her own, she became a victim. Life will take favours, but surely, life will never give them.
Her mama took her own, now baby girl is part of the system. She found refuge with her friends, but all of them not knowing what life would bring them.

Home after home, they bounced around. Never really stable, hostility was a normal sound.
It didn't help that her skin was the wrong kind of brown. She grew insecure and started hating every little thing about herself now.
All in all she grew around some abuse, she was at an age where she kind of understood.
She had seen a lot of things and grew wise enough and strong willed not to get involved with substance use.
Struggle is in the pudding and she is the proof.
No matter what she did, the dark void was endless,
But still she knew, life was not meant to end yet.
She didn't have much, one day browsing through the internet;
MK100 smallest bundle? That's some good money spent.
She started networking and connecting with people around the world,
all of a sudden she transformed into a popular girl. She finally had a voice, and what she enjoyed most, people listened when she had spoken.
Some how this filled some of the void, she didn't feel all that broken.
She met a few people, who made a few promises, she tried her best to not get too into this.
Although she didn't all that mind, I mean she was getting Facebook famous.
She could share her thoughts, she could make her statements.
She liked the likes, she liked the status.
Posted on her wall, she scrolling crazy, she's not usually like this, but she's been like this lately.
Changed her privacy settings, she's misbehaving.
She doesn't have a man, but she has a baby, her relationship status - 'it's complicated'.
She lost her substance, now all she posts about are the wild nights, the wild life that she enjoys,
Currently works at 'self-employed'
Phone is never on silent, she likes the noise, all the retweets and double taps from all these internet boys;
Winking face, love hearts and kiss emoji's. Bundle net upgrade, she's using 4G.
She hides her pain behind an IP Address, her phone buzzing like mosquitoes when she's on the net.
She's already scheduled her next tweet, she has it all set.
Guys in her DM's trying to internet flex, asking for some pics, they want internet sex, she said no to the wrong guy, they turned to internet threats. After all she had wanted to be internet's best, she had already lost everyone around her, it's only internet left...

400 posts and 10,000 followers. But when she logs off, nobody even knows of her.
She's burnt all her bridges, she lost touch of her real friends.
She doesn't know where to begin, or how to make amends.
Now she sitting thinking, 'what was the means to the end?'
All of the filters, reactions, the snap chats and PM's.
Right there is when she decides to change her ways.
No more parties and no more slays.
No more selfies and no more internet praise
She didn't realise she had actually got lost and became an internet slave.

She goes back to school, and starts focusing more on her and her son.
Leaves her old life and logs off. Those days are done!
It takes a while to settle and erase who she was
She doesn't want the likes, she starts to look for love
She gets tried and tested because everyone still thinks
'Just got to her profile, hit that link. She's the girl in the club drowning in that drink. She's the girl easier to tap than a kitchen sink.'
She rides out the whispers, she's determined for her own pay.
She gets out of it strong she has finally made her own way.
It's now been a few years and a couple of days.
She decides to log on and scrolls through memories she had let fade.
Realises what goes up on the internet, forever stays!

There Is No Message

It was the cold touch on my lips, when I grabbed his neck. It was the dripping, his taste, his smell... intoxicating..

He'd be there to celebrate; on every holiday, every special occasion. Everybody cheering, laughing and embracing the moments spent. I loved how everyone around me liked him as much as I did. Wherever we would go they'd ask for him too, we had to make sure he was always there. Take him on road trips, sneak him into school, sneak him into the cinemas, take him to every party and introduce him to everyone. We would even cancel other plans for him. I don't know what it was but, I thought I was addicted, indulging in the pleasures of the world, lost in the fantasy he had me in when we were together. Not a care in the world, even if it was just for the moment, it was our moments.

The way he could be ice cold against my lips and drip down my body, or be warm; with an intoxicating smile. I would accommodate him, whatever the case would be, I was always right next to him, he was right next to me. Sometimes I would wake up and find him, just there.. have me craving him when I was alone, when i had company, when we were bored or even entertained, we love his company. When he wasnt available we would make a plan to find him, invest having him as company. Even those who never started off liking him, would eventually warm up to his charm, entertain his presence and indulge in the humour that was him.

He approached me with a message, a message he has never told me. He's left me looking for this message, everytime we are together, he doesnt seem to share the message. Then, when its all set and done, like everything else in life, he leaves me; hurting, wounded, sick, never wanting to see him again. He leaves me with fevers, sweating, heavy heart beat, thirsty for more... or is it thirst for nothing at all? He leaves me wondering if the message is really worth seeking. Then... when I accept his absence, and I am back on my feet, he comes back, tempting, convincing, placing more curiosity about that message that has never been shared, never been found, never been told, still uncertain if it even exists.

He is a bad love, a destructive habit, an expensive relationship; time consuming, is it worth it? Why can't I go without that cold touch on my lips, the feel when i grabbed his neck, the dripping down the side of my mouth, the smell... the intoxication.. left wondering if Pierre even did send the message or will it forever be an empty bottle?!