Screen Time
Scrolling is easy
You give into gravity
You need no compass
You endlessly go down
First goes your mind
It’s stuffed with gold and garbage until it bursts
Then your bleeding organs await maintenance
Then your gray heart and your dried up soul
Get caught in a wheel that is being continuously turned by you
But you have no control over it
And every voice that matters gets put on low low volume
So that you won’t be distracted from the deafening incoherent loop of nothingness and soul numbing diarrhea because your brain craves a reset and you run it low power til it dies
And you have so many tools and no supplies
And an inability to take truth from the lies
And when your cup overflows with poison it can seep into places of importance
And you use your brain as the sponge that guards your heart
That sits down at your stomach
And it drips and it soaks
And it leaks and it never stops and the noise
it never leaves
Maximum time for minimal attention
Nothing of note is worth a mention
It comes only by reflex and invitation
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