Little Miss Subtweet — "Funny How Some People Forget Where They Came From"

Lyrics

The room is dark.
Just the blue light on my face.
Ten thirteen PM.
My thumb is tired.

And then it's there.
On the timeline.
"Funny how some people..."
I stop scrolling.
I read it twice.
The single tear emoji, placed just so.
A statement for everyone.
A letter bomb for one. Or two. Or three.

And somewhere, three people are crying.
In their own blue light.
And two are texting screenshots back and forth.
"You saw it, right?"
And none will be named.
But everyone who matters knows the names.

My phone vibrates against the nightstand.
It's Sarah.
Just a screenshot, no words.
I send back a single question mark, but I know.
The timestamp is nine minutes ago.
Long enough to do the damage.
I type, "It's about the dinner on Friday, isn't it?"
Three dots appear.
Then disappear. Then reappear.
"Of course it is."

And somewhere, three people are crying.
In their own blue light.
And two are texting screenshots back and forth.
"You saw it, right?"
And none will be named.
But everyone who matters knows the names.

She holds the phone like a little black mirror.
Sees her own cleverness glimmering back.
A knife thrown from behind a curtain.
She gets to watch the show, and her hands stay clean.
She calls it "venting."
We call it Tuesday.
It's the quiet hum of a war fought in public, with no declared soldiers.

The post has seventeen likes.
One of them is from her mother.
I put my phone down, screen-side down.
But the room still feels blue.
Still humming.