Social Media Love Affair

Our story is perfect on a four-inch screen–filtered, cropped, cropped again,
We pose in matching clothes, rictus grins, hashtag-blessed, both dying to start again.
The internet thinks we’re radiant, glowing with curated affection,
But the fight before brunch, the silence on the drive home, is lost in the algorithm’s detection.
Your status declares we’re madly in love, heart emoji after heart emoji,
While I stare at your back as you turn away, angry but smiling for the camera,
Everything we feel–anger, lust, hope, and boredom–reduced to a highlight reel for an audience we don’t know,
Love measured in likes, touch measured in taps,
We kiss to keep up appearances, not to remember what it means to be close,
We sleep side by side, but I feel further from you than anyone who’s ever left a comment under your post.

There’s a hunger to be seen, to be wanted by the world,
But all this attention leaves us empty, every like is a hit that never quite fills the hole.
We share everything and nothing, a double life: public bliss, private pain,
I’m tagged in your memories, but never in your arms;
We’ve built a shrine to our love out of borrowed images and fake perfection,
The more we post, the less we touch, the more we say, the less it means.
Behind the screen, I ache for something real–an argument that ends in forgiveness, a laugh that isn’t planned,
A moment where our flaws aren’t hidden by a filter,
A kiss that tastes of need, not of performance for invisible fans.

Let’s log out and start again, smash the phones, break the spell,
I want to remember your skin without checking the angle,
Love without witnesses, touch without proof,
If there’s anything left between us, let it be messy, let it be flawed,
Let’s be nobody’s couple goals–let’s just be us, unscripted, unposted,
And if we fail, at least it’ll be real,
No audience, no applause, just the silence that comes when the truth finally breaks through the noise.