Ticking Clock

Desperation for validation

Reeks and soars from a rectangular screen

The sound of a clock, tick tock

As the heart beats faster

Like a sniff of fluffy white snow

Endorphins flood through, coarse then meander

Disappearing

Until the next big wave hits

Surfing the scroll, ping, ding, beep

Oooh so happy…likes, what follows,

Accepted addicted

That desperation for validation

From who knows what and the counterfeit millions

A well honed bunch of rhythms

Tap into weakness and needs

Chasing the high

Never satisfied, a perfect heady cocktail

Thumbs accosted by a new cartel

Techy coloured drug lords not one in plain sight

Faceless and invisible pushing the needle

Into the veins of naivity and innocence

Catch them at a young age

You’ll have yourself a surfer for life

And at the end of it all, not one in a million knows

An empty grave, unlikeable, no one following the coffin

Really Invisible Person

Reels Inactive. Period.

Ticking Clock, Jacqs Sullivan