She wrote and received nothing in return



pondered, a moment, theories, guesses


she wondered

perhaps he was eaten by monsters of the night

was he mad?

well, he was always mad

and then maybe at something

or someone


but why?

she kept smiling and laughing like she always did

that was her

strong, incessant, resilient

but in that smile a tooth gripped her lip

she had written, but there was no reply

perhaps the internet nebulae had swallowed his words

to be spat out in some other dot domain

she liked chain letters and was superstitious

she was pretty and smart and vibrant

so, fuck him and his pretentious ways


who needs friends like that?

he was busy with everything and nothing

he was living, breathing, sighing at sunsets

and desperately trying to identify this strange bird in his tree

she had written

he thought about her all the time but he had no words to form,

just emptiness to offer

there was a thing missing at the time and how he missed it

not under his tongue or pushed back into his cheek

not under the bed or shoved behind furniture

but it was near

it was hovering

flashing in the corner of his eyes

perched on his eyelash?


he rather liked that notion