Jisatsu

Jisatsu sits, bleary-eyed
in front of a computer screen.

With strangers and screen names
cables and wires connect.

His fate announced
through channels of waning intimacy.

Eager fingers convey interest and curiosity.
Words made brave when spoken with hands.

Jisatsu sits, encouraged by others'
spite and the taste for blood.

Friends and followers; foes
waiting with baited breath.

Watching a sick game--tug-of-war;
later, he'll use its rope to tie the noose.

Eyelashes brush the scope
to peer through a scratched lens.

Jisatsu swings
while the world watches on.