Every day:

 another ceaseless whirl

of notifications.

Each task:

a wave of anxiety.

all vying for supremacy

within my unholy chest.

once I was home,

less than an hour passed

before the nightly ritual began:

Strip off the cruel day

and climb into bed,

“Beneath the waves

of blankets, you'll be safe.”

“Open an app

and drown out the whole world,

so nothing exists outside the bubble."

See, it exists:

old friends from school

are falling in love,

acquaintances are

meeting my heroes,

and all I have to show

are a few cents

burning holes in my pockets.

Haven't l given

enough of my soul?

Will someone tell me

the real way forward?

Post here,

comment there.

Living beneath the screen

seems so easy;

is that why

I've idled here,

with prayers laced between

shaky breaths?

Why I lost

my purchase on the heavens...?

On these trips to Hell:

Between the tallest

mountains l could find,

in the sanctum of shadow they guarded,

l stared into

a shattered, black mirror.

Every manner of

wonder and horror

danced before my eyes;

inscribed on top were

the light-bearers’ names

and the glories claimed

through miraculous feats of willpower.

It summoned visions

of the old stars

that l once wished upon,

but they were different-

entangled in a web of dark forces.