Caffeine and alcohol circulate through my body, 

Depression and anxiety percolate in my head, 

And what am I?

I’m a figure, shriveled from fear and my past, 

Ho Ho it’s off to work we go

And we work and try and pick and peck and pull at our necks

I shave and rave, only to but put in a grave, 

A monster disguised by a straight, white smile

The melatonin keeps me down

The coffee keeps me up, 

The screen keeps me here

Who me?

No, not me, 

But someone, something, a being, a collection of darkness, an empty, soulless soul

And then what?

I paste and poster, cover my walls with the remains of a heart

Of a life of cheerful toasts and hoorays and success

To come tumbling down to the dirt, the grit and the dust we all belong in.

Who am I, if not a pair of eyes, yearning to be manipulated ny thousands of flashing pixels, 

A brain that is only calmed by a barrage of artificial sleep

A heart that is only linked in dreams.