Put the Phone Down: A Poem About Finding Peace Beyond the Feed

After a long day of work…

all you really need is rest.

Yet your thumb 

it scrolls.

Feed after feed,

post after post,

and your mind forgets how to rest.

Pause.

Breathe.

This happened, that happened.

This drama , that drama.

Sometimes you get hyped like fire,

sometimes you shrink like shadow.

And suddenly 

the world feels dangerous, loud, unstable.

So loud that you even fear

your own reflection in the mirror.

You stare.

And you ask 

Is that really me?

Who came home in my skin today?

Which stranger did I carry inside my chest,

wearing my name like a tag?

But listen 

you are still you.

Not the comments.

Not the likes.

Not the drama or the trending noise.

You are still you,

as long as your soul remembers your name.

Because out here 

hearts are for sale,

love comes discounted,

and the value of a smile

is measured in shares.

Scroll… scroll… scroll…

and the feed keeps feeding 

madness, joy, sadness, fear.

A whole menu of emotions

you didn’t even choose.

So ask yourself 

should strangers decide your mood for you?

Or will you slowly return

to your own voice,

your own breath,

your own natural rhythm?

Because peace isn’t found in the feed.

It’s found in the pause 

when you finally put the phone down,

look inward,

and just…

be.

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2 responses to “Put the Phone Down: A Poem About Finding Peace Beyond the Feed”

  1. Kimberly Avatar
    Kimberly

    This is really great. This piece speaks so honestly about what so many feel but rarely have the words for. The way you describe the scrolling, how it pulls us out of ourselves little by little, is painfully true. That line about “who came home in my skin today?” really hits the heart. Because it’s so easy to lose our sense of self in all the noise, drama, and borrowed emotions we absorb without even realizing it.

    What I love most, though, is the reminder tucked at the end, that we’re allowed to pause. That peace doesn’t live in the feed; it lives in the quiet space where we return to our own breath, our own voice, our own inner stillness.

    Your words feel like an invitation to stop letting strangers determine our mood, and to reclaim the simple, sacred act of being present. Thank you for writing something that nudges us gently back toward ourselves.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Frain Chakrit Avatar

    I am deeply grateful for your words. They truly mean a lot to me.

    Like

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