Matter

When my mobile phone buzzes,
I am wide-awake and in anticipation.
I need to see what somebody did
In relation to my life.
Somebody has interacted
With me.
I matter.
I have made an appearance
In somebody’s picture.
Somebody is claiming
That I went somewhere with them.
They are personally messaging me
To tell me something.
They are publicly posting something
To my profile
To say something
And they want everybody
To know they’re saying it.
I am requested.
I am needed.
I am desired.
I matter.
I am having fun.
I need a photographer to document it.
I have told a funny joke.
Somebody needs to accredit me with a quote.
I accomplished something difficult.
A friend will click
To show that they acknowledge my feat.
I matter.
I am a blog.
I am a profile.
You can follow me.
You can track where I go.
You can know who I go with.
You can listen to my thoughts.
You can see who I am.
I matter.
But I am not matter.
I am a machine.
I create pictures for you.
I create jokes for you.
I establish myself
So you know who I am.
You matter.

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