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.
