1-star review

Her ritual begins
with a flame 
above dead-rose wax.

She searches herself 
on the internet 
and leaves 
a 1-star review.

“Poor service. 
No smile. 
Smelled 
like burnt tobacco.”

Palms mud her face,
searches “How to live 
with yourself?”
A mask of self-care.

Error 404. 
Not found. 

Try again 
another day.

Smoke leads footsteps
to a vacant kitchen.

Fruit in porcelain
offended by the smell.
Chips and dip
fill bowls,
pretend it's a party. 

Dishes forsaken,
she condemns
someone else.
She lives by herself.

Laptop glows,
chats with a bot.
Asks for ratings
to self-soothe.

One out of ten:
how good am I?

Loader spins, 
almost times out.
Thinking 
for 45 seconds…

Red pop up. 
Connection error

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to retry?