Social media fucking sucks.

I feel like a fucking prostitute. Dancing around these goddamn social media pages with my nylon tights and fistfuls of poetry. Screaming out hashtags from my soapbox in hopes of getting a couple more glances in my direction. Trying to squeeze complex ideas into a tiny square box, my soul trapped on a timeline that doesn’t even hesitate in its scrolling. Then, in the end, still get blocked out by an algorithm that cares more about glamour and tits than it does about soul.

This is not art. Not anymore.