‘A Real Person’ by Elara Dean

I met a real person last week.

I asked him if he was okay.

He said he was a bit tired.

I said I felt the same way.

I hadn’t slept last night,

because of the rain.

He said he hadn’t slept last night

because of the pain.

 

The person next to me in line said

“But you’re rich.

You haven’t got any problems

stop being a bitch.”

And the person next to them

was writing hate under his post.

Another anonymous account,

an internet ghost.

And the person next to them

was creating videos for sex,

wondering which real person

they would exploit next.

And we all lined up

for the same show,

Pretending this stranger

was a real person we know.

 

I met a real person last week.

I asked him if he was okay.

He said he was a little bit tired.

Or at least that’s what I imagined he’d say.

But instead he said he was fine

and we both went our separate ways.