So many days are lost

like poems that erase

on an old computer

and we all have different programing

high-speed

low-speed

connections

to things

outside of us

All I want is for my life to matter

to be connected to something

that won’t be severed

There is a computer graveyard

where our faces are unscrewed

our wires are pulled out

and our parts get used

If computers have feelings

and I don’t think they do

I still like to spend time on them

to feed some nostalgic need

that can’t be bought

in a store

The world wants

a fast

tech-savvy

artificial intelligence

manufactured

online

and new

Maybe we are just mounds of plastic

chemically molded

into something obscene

We attach our love to things

and I don’t know why

and in the end,

we’ll understand

or be pulled apart.

3 thoughts on “Pulled Apart

  1. I think your poem encapsulates our deepest desire as human beings to connect very beautifully. It feels like the information overload in the technical world that we live in no longer allows for any real, meaningful connection with people. I hope you find the love you seek, inside yourself, because we truly can’t rely entirely on the externalities to satisfy us

    Liked by 1 person

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