Me These Days

 I always been a fast texter, or maybe it's because I'm always on my phone. 

But these days it's been longer responses because I prefer being alone. 

Because I can notice little switches when people's typing styles change.

They go from sending emojis to suddenly a one exchange, 

"OKAY", a thumbs up that's all. 

There aren't even words anymore. 

No reason to call. 

I try to keep the conversation going because I care about people I know. And they were responding pretty fast. 

And it's weird that now they're so slow. 

But we're also adults now and tired. 

And messages are harder to type. 

Not because there's nothing left to say. 

But because it's all gone. 

In one unfair swipe "I Miss You." is lettered in the way my eyes shine.

When I see a new picture of you in a shirt that used to be mine. 

I only have a few people in my circle, honestly. 

I try to keep pretty small. 

Friends I know would always pick up that always have a reason to call. 

Every now and again I push myself further than I planned to go. 

Because there's so many loved ones that I have yet to know. 

But also comes the curveball. 

The disgusting appeal that somebody will break you in their own effort to heal. Like a piece of furniture used to balance, that suddenly cracks at the spine of the books. 

Lose their letters no text from this phone of mine. 

But I see you typing. 

Three dots bubble up like I poured soda into a mug and shook up the closed cup. 

So there is pressure to notice. to keep the phone on to fight for an attention that I already should have won. 

You like me! 

You like me. 

You like me? 

You do. 

You like me today but honestly.... Is that actually true? 

Because I'm starting at a screen like I'm still 17 and blushing.

Except now it's just frustrating. 

Because I'm too old for this type of crushing where I'm waiting and wondering. 

So incredibly naive because if you wanted to stay, you would never be so quick to leave. 

You always and only text me when you think that I'm exciting, when you wanna be on the list of whoever I'm inviting to the future. 

My future that you didn't believe in yesterday. 

To the English Speech Competition where I won gold in my own way. 

YOU'RE NOT INVITED TO MY SUCCESS STORY! 

The party of celebration sit back down during my standing ovation. 

You didn't care. 

Some part of you still can't extend the congratulations. 

The accountability the apology that could mend. 

Every time you made me feel bad, a new letter gone. 

You're out singing for me on somebody else's lawn. 

How much greener is their grass? 

Tell me how much you can enjoy? 

When your phone is still on. 

Do not disturb when your excuses that you're still "JUST A BOY"

I built a nice garden with all the time I had saved. Like God took pity on me and the cost of living waived. 

So I didn't miss you, I didn't text. 

The last time I thought of you was when I heard who you got with next. 

And part of me was frustrated because what did I do wrong? 

Because you heard the music when I wrote the song.