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By Frank Yin

Phones are a drug

Pleasure then pain

Necessary but not


Its fire quickly brings light to a dark day

But every bzzz and scroll are the ashes covering more of the sun

Leaving more darkness gaping in the heart of the average person

The pair of eyes are geysers ready to erupt

Every bubble is the twitch of an eye

The pools of water reflect the color of the sun

The eyes make an egg sizzle on contact

They allow us to bring loved ones closer

But also push them away

Every ring and bzz draws us into a never ending slide of darkness

It brings up the question “One more minute?”

But we always seem to wait for the end of the slide instead of jumping off

Phones are a drug

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