Megan A

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It’s late Both hands on the wheel yet one feels magnified Would it hurt if I just— The dark glass screen awakens once more Right hand is pulsing Begging Pleading “Pay attention to me.” the screen says in a hush Midnight The roads seem empty Tempting Light continues to spill from the glass Eyes shift over to glance like a moth towards a streetlamp “You want me,” it whispers. “You need me.” Music on the radio becomes static Every inch of your body tingles and itches Stretching towards the illuminated glass All signs of relief are inches away “It will only be a second.” “Trust me.” Words like ice on a hot day Cold Yet exactly what you want Too late You reach Grasping onto the smooth silky surface The glass smiles “See? That wasn’t so bad.” You agree Thumb scrolls up Mind drowns out the noise “Watch ou—” Spinning Falling Breaking Gasping for air you cry Unaware and unconscious The grass and Earth caress your broken skin Smoke fills your lungs instead of air The screen wakes up instead of you “You have 1 new notification.”