Three A.M. Scroll
Phone face up on the nightstand dragging my eyes back from sleep like a hook under skin
One stupid notification, then another
then I’m gone again, pulled right back in
Room is quiet, neighbors out cold
but my ceiling’s full of flickering shadows
Every app lined up like shots at a bar where the bartender never stops pouring.
Thumb starts its little treadmill
muscle memory on a loop I didn’t choose, News
thirst traps, memes
disasters stacked like different flavors of abuse
Some stranger’s dinner, bombing footage
an ad that knows what shirt I like
Video of someone moving, then a puppy
then a sponsored crystal bike
It’s all the same sugar to my fried-out brain
different colors of the same hit, Scroll down
scroll down, scroll down
never once asking if I wanted it.
It’s three in the morning and my thumb’s gone numb while my heart feels scraped out hollow
Drowning in a bottomless feed that knows I will always follow
There’s a whole dead world outside my window
dark and still and real
But I keep letting this little screen tell me how I’m supposed to feel.
Old messages float up like bodies from numbers I should have blocked
Exes, almost-friends
half-finished threads where the door never quite got locked
I read back through old arguments I already lost ten times
Pick at scars in blue and gray bubbles like they’re cross-examined crimes
I could close the chat and breathe instead of rewinding every bruise
But my thumb just keeps on moving like it forgot the word “refuse.”
Ads slide between tragedies
selling comfort while the bombs go off on mute
“Treat yourself” between mass shootings like a punchline in a cheap-ass suit
There’s a headline saying “world on fire
” then a video of someone moving
Someone’s polished little morning
someone else who never got to be soothing
I’m supposed to care about everything
but caring this thin is just terror and ash
So I tap a heart on some dumb joke and watch my attention crash.
It’s three in the morning and my thumb’s locked in
my brain’s half gone and sore
Every swipe another promise that the next thing might finally score
I could put this glowing brick down
but the silence feels like a threat
So I keep feeding it my focus like it deserves this debt.
There’s another life where I read at night with a lamp and a creaking chair
Who walks the block when sleep won’t come and actually tastes the air
But this life lies in blue-white glow, neck bent
shoulders curled
Letting strangers’ curated nonsense drip straight into my world
I tell myself “this is the last scroll
after this I close my eyes
” Then hit “refresh” like some addict begging the slot machine for a sign.
At the bottom of a thread about some stranger’s grief I’ll never touch
I realize I’ve been holding my breath way, way too much
My chest hurts from all the tension I didn’t know I’d stored
From all the horror I absorbed while my body just lay ignored
I’m crying over people I don’t know while the dishes rot in the sink
While the messages from friends who love me sit unopened on the brink.
Battery drops to low
little red warning in the corner of my sight
Should be the sign to put it down
let my brain cool off for the night
Instead I plug it in beside me like an IV full of light
Let that lifeline wire keep humming
keep me wired to this bite
My pillow knows the exact shape of this routine by now
Me, the phone, the endless feed
and one more “holy shit” eyebrow.
It’s three in the morning and my thumb keeps twitching though I’ve seen this all before
Same disasters, different angles
same influencers keeping score
I’m full to the throat with nothing
starving while I overeat
Feeding on shadows till I can’t feel my own heartbeat. One night I’m gonna leave this thing on the dresser and turn it face-down dark
Let the quiet crawl back in and see what’s left of my spark
Tonight I kill the screen at last
lie there shaking in the black
Hear my own pulse in the silence and feel my thumb still want it back.