I Don't Live, iPhone

I can’t feel you

There is  screen in the way

 

I don’t know the faces you make

Only the emojis you use

 

I don’t know your tone

Just the hashtags you choose

 

Your handwriting, I wouldn’t recognize

I know your profile picture, not the color of your eyes

 

The sunset and sunrise are foreign to me

The only light source I know is the glow of my screen

 

I need airbrushed scenery because reality is too obscene

If I’m mourning death, it’s my battery

 

I’m up on my phone and pissed I can’t sleep

But little do I know the blue hue of the screen

Tricks my brain to think

I’m awake

 

But no one posted about that today

I copy, paste, and regurgitate

Fastfood information

with no real comprehension

 

With a window to the world in the palm of my hand

I can’t see past my own reflection

 

A selfie with the caption “YOLO”

I am the iphone generation

 

I have no soul or substance,

only screen glazed eyes and a wifi connection

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My community
My country
Our world

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741