Live Metanoia

I open my mouth, dropping notes of my soul to waiting ears eager to hear me.

I’m sick of hearing the same old story -so I come to you raw and bleeding, begging for you to hear me screaming.

But no.

You don’t hear anything but the clicks of the next Like -the next page. The next short sited flame that drawls you in, to burn you out just as quickly, leaving you empty and searching.

So you move on to one quick fix after another- unbothered that you’re never fulfilled, never happy. That unless you have thousands of followers you are nothing.

I can only preach to the choir because they’re the only ones listening.

You are more than your username.

You are more than your likes and your followers.

You are more than five plus inches of a glass screen.

You just need to put down the soul stealer and go be something.

But no.

Preaching to the choir again as I’m drowned out by the sound of clicks, likes, and shares-choking on my own words of truth.

Waiting for anyone to come and save me.

But no, you’re to busy pressing record.

So I sit here, my mouth dropping notes of my soul to any ears eager to hear me.

-Kaycee