- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Drug In My Hand
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I hold it in my hand, this drug.
Many hours per day,
From dawn 'til well after dusk.
Without it, I am lost.
Cut off from the world,
From friends,
From family.
From modern life.
With it, I am high on the sound of a billion voices,
All speaking at once,
But none of them listening to each other.
With it, I am drunk on the sights of universe,
I can see across time and space,
Commune with the living,
And the dead.
With this drug, I find love.
With this drug, I spew hate.
This drug opens my mind to truth.
This drug blinds me with lies.
It eases my burden,
Yet it solves nothing.
We hold it in our hands, right now,
This drug.
With it, we are complete.
And we are damned.
- COMMENTS
SeraphNocturne6 months ago⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
Seriously well done, an easy five stars...
I've thought about this a lot honestly, to the point I made a point to un-learn the habits. The death-scroll down FB and IG, obsessively seeking new content--the impulse to react to differing opinions, sometimes even troll bait, the need for recognition and to share every moment. I've got hour caps on my social media apps now and make a goal not to hit them. I don't argue with random fuckers I'll never meet anymore, damn sure don't obsess over checking social media or oversharing, and engage only in what matters to me. Not every photo makes it out to share--I horde them to myself, they're precious to me, and also fuck the addiction. Life isn't in the phone, it's around us!
