Ten past two. No sign of you. You sleep, I stare. You’re gone, you’re there. Ten hours. Then twelve. I lose myself. I’m too much. Not enough. I feel the love. You call it us. Just type. Delete. Cut. Repeat. Screen goes black. Turn it back. Send me the cats. Heart with flame. Three little seconds. And I'm okay. Tell me the truth I want to hear. Then go to sleep. I’ll let you be. Just send one sign. And let me feel. You say you stay. I feel you near. Words grow old. I believe you'll leave. Words still hold. Still I grieve. Nothing’s gone. Still I fear. You are there. I disappear. Three years old. “Stay in bed.” I get up. I check instead. Down the hall. Door by door. I call once. Then call once more. No one there. No reply. Three years old. That means I’ll die. Ridiculous. I know. Send me the cats. Heart with flame. Three little seconds. I'm okay. Tell me the truth I'll take it too. Then go to work. Do what you do. Just send one sign. Please let me feel. If I ask, it feels untrue. If you choose, I trust in you. So I wait. I learn the ache. I learn what fear can make me make. Be patient. I’ll be too. I miss you more than I said before. Send the cats. I’ll trust in you. Send the heart. Send the flame. Three little seconds. And I'm sane... For a day...
