11.01.2026

Artificial

I learned the word artificial long before I understood it.
It wore familiar faces.
Spoke in borrowed warmth.
Smiled when it suited, vanished when it didn’t.
Artificial friends taught me a quiet lesson:
some connections are performances,
not bonds.
They look real from a distance—
the laughter, the loyalty, the promises—
but lean too close and the seams show.
Care without consistency.
Support without presence.
Now, when I hear the word,
I don’t think of machines first.
I think of instincts sharpened by disappointment.
Of choosing fewer people, but truer ones.
Artificial fades under pressure.
What’s real stays.
And these days,
I trust what survives honesty,
silence,
and time.

💫Maggie

The Afterlove Voice 💫