I wake to pings, the calendar decides
if I have time to breathe or just exist.
Coffee, deadlines, curated feeds of joy—
I scroll through lives that look more real than mine.
Peace is an app now, or a yoga class,
balance sold in bottles, chaos dressed in chic.
We laugh in memes, cry in disappearing texts,
and call it living—this curated mess.
But when the noise breaks, truth hums like a wire:
you’re real, if only when the screen goes dark.