A picture of yourself

Standing on a locked door

Hand dives in that shallow bag

Which can barely move in the

Seafloor of wires.

Strangled with thick and thin

Chargers that actually drains

Black and white chords

Which disconnects from reality

Earphones that shuts the noisy mind

An escape, you said

Yet stucked by cables that connects

to the unnecessary

Long list of names, of faces,

of well-designed profiles

that drowns you

We’ve made a forest of wires

That hides our keys

Keeping us away from rest

That harbors the monster of uncertain days

Anxiety rushes as a current

Unplug

Before your alarm rings

Picture yourself

Best friending your bed, please.