mirror mirror in my hand
must you eff with my san't
can't i get one night's rest
will this scrolling be my death

the cracked screen slice a line clean
from finger tip to dripping vein
skin frayed
mind waylaid
dried out optics

never blinking fully
'junctivitis the lever
eye drops the pulley
medical string playing me Pinocch'
my folly the grind
no toke give a bright side

to this fastlane car crash
whipped past the aftermath
of decades of obedience
tires squeal towards the median
drive by with no glock
to sign my independence

im up and going down this endless scroll
each vid a quick hit to my dope cent'
but the last skip had me groan 'fore the ads hit,

without reason without cause
i want the good vibe
i want that baby-crawl
getting praise for achieving
that first burst of leaving
mom's thighs without screaming

but my insides are all clench
and no drive
and no swerve
so this collision's a pileup

im getting my just desserts
my cherry
the scary sight
when that icon depleting at last powers off
so i gotta see my face grieving in perpetuity
but i can stop that drawl

just gotta pitch this phone
drop it quick
my home ain't gotta be
this fit and foam

it's time to quit the habit
i give this black sabbath
the timeless whip and roll

on the floor screaming
shame to waste another day
on swiping to please the pain
milked clean for ad need
on every screen with
or without my peepers
gawking their feed

but it's over.
The cold chill
of my body stills.

I'm a day older.
My life is no worse
for feeding that curse.

I don't need to hug my knees.
It's enough to stop and breathe,
to see the wall and hear the vents,
to look from without; offer forgiveness.

My mistake is done. My future is won.
I can break the habit without savaging
my psyche with insults. This caregiving
can be a solemn relief. Some tea to steep.
A little food to eat. I sit and think.

It's my mind to think.