Holy Sonnet 3

Unfriend me, haters, crop me out of yr selfie
which is the world; leave me like a fuckboi
after a midnight booty call — look, then
swipe me away to online oblivion,
a bad date with a dad bod and no game.
Dismiss me in a vicious subtweet
I’ll never see — block, unfollow, flag me
as offensive, send me to the spam box…
For I do worse every day to him
who forwarded my soul (a corrupt file)
to the King. And though I suffer exile
virtually, desperate for a “like,”
his love stripped anonymity away
so his avatar was deleted for real.

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