Eternity, feels like time, Jazz!
My pupils are attached to my touch screen like snail slime on a window glass.
Every time a thought of Jazz peeks in, I feel a tickle.
A sour mist of IMY! :((

I am desperately jiving on ragtime,
These barren motionless typed words that sometimes need a voice!
And though txting is our fusion,
I am unable to catch with all my senses
the very actions of your loud laughter
With exclamation points, and typed up smileys!
I only read them the way I perceive them.

Maybe you’ve changed after the several times we shared,
Our first glance -_-
How do I know you are the same person I met at the computer lab?
Improvisational was your introduction,
When woogie-boogieing you came up to me displaying “friendly intentions.”
Therefore, a friendship attached to inanimate words
Without sound, speech, or tongue will be the cause of our blues and
broken hearts.

Are you the contradiction of an intellectual stalwart,
Blindly deaf, whose larynx was eaten like a coward’s?
Our disposition,
Entirely described by a selection of words in our language
as the predominant tendency of one’s spirit,
Simply summarized, a friendship.

I don’t want to txt all the time!
And if our friendship is genuine,
I would be disturbed with a friend who does not answer my call or respond to my txt
And after waiting a week later txt Heyy >[
Don’t think I’m absurd!
I’m just curious about your quickness to avoid at all costs
skype, facetime, or a simple phone call.
My feelings are hurt.

Txt hello,
I will not respond.


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741