status update in poetry

facebook doesn’t need to tell me
it’s the birthday of one ex and then
send me an old picture of the other
five years ago as a “facebook memory”
even worse from new york city
where a part of me feels like
I’m still supposed to be

facebook, you’re being an asshole
facebook, you’re
not being a bro
facebook, you’re
bringing me down y’know
facebook, you don’t
have to tell me I’m alone

the empty space beside me
tells me that already and
it does it ad-free
asshole