Prompt: Something that returns

our bad habits are like the sea
we send them out determined to be free
but the tide either circles back
or becomes reincarnated as rain
seeping into our skin
the drugs cycle us back to those lies
when we believed we were free
once more we’re trapped in the rush of temporary happiness

we put our phones on silent
self-care means off the grid
away from comparison and the toxicity
of FOMO of swiping left or right of glamorous filters
and people who seem like they have their lives together
when we barely have 50 bucks in our bank accounts
we last a day and we’re proud
’til the anxiety of wanting to know kills us
what are my friends eating? did so and so break up?
what do I do now?
one quick look but it’s enough to immerse
our attention
in the click-bait
of our phones the phonies the phonology
of people we think we know but never met
hooked on phonics
of texts
reading between the lines

longing for boys who will never become men
we leave the window open and lie that it’s shut
hoping Peter Pan will come again
though we promised ourselves last time was the last time
but oh, for just one more night in Neverland
hooked to Captain Hook and the lost boys
we couldn’t save them last time but maybe this time
will be different
but come morning we wake and this time for real
we believe we’ve grown up from such childish games
just when we think we’re safe
Peter Pan’s shadow finds us again