you're cold.

two cats on your lap. a dog at your side.

messages awaiting on your phone

it's not plugged in. 

you aren't plugged in.

please be okay.

how are things going?

I miss talking to you.

I had a dream about you.



you're quiet.

so is the room.

and the light is off.

it hasn't been on for awhile

and you want to make that symbolism

but the point

is that the light is off

and really,

no one really cares.



you're warm.

in a friend's bed. movies playig.

funny how homes manifest themselves,

not in buildings, cities, countries.

in people, in moments, in laughing so hard

you actually might have thrown up.

you can't really remember.

but you laughed.

and isn't that what mattered?



you're loud. 

in a park. your name carved in a tree.

your friend put it there. her's is there too.

you crawled into a tunnerl together to put, 

well, you don't really remember.

it was graffiti. maybe lyrics.

maybe a small love story. 

a love story written to rule the world.

to rule a substance you couldn't control.



you're everything.

when the universe is you infinite times.

when the world is both everything

and nothing at all.

no words, a thousand.

no laughing, your stomach hurts.

no crying, you can't breathe.

maybe we aren't meant to be okay.

there's a little bit of beauty in that.

This poem is about: 
Our world


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