Pixelated Love

We used to hold hands, now we hold controllers–our romance split-screen and low-res,
Every conversation paused by a boss fight, every kiss delayed for a power-up,
I’m watching you level up in fantasy worlds while our real-life stats plummet,
You’re lost in dungeons, I’m lost in longing, the gap between us measured in gigabytes.
Your headset’s on, you’re talking tactics to strangers,
I’m talking to the back of your head, my needs queued up behind your quests,
We laugh about it–call it “our thing”–but the punchline hurts every night you choose a raid over a date.
You save princesses, kingdoms, the world itself,
But can’t save this love, or even remember to look me in the eyes,
I wonder if I’m just another side quest you can complete or skip when you’re bored.

I scroll my phone, pretending I’m busy,
But really, I’m waiting to be noticed in your peripheral vision,
Pixelated affection, avatars hugging on the screen while we sit on opposite ends of the couch,
Sometimes I wish the whole system would crash and you’d have to see me–glitchy, flawed, desperate for a player two.
Maybe one day you’ll put down the controller,
Turn off the notifications, and remember there’s a real world,
Where love isn’t scored, isn’t saved, isn’t on a leaderboard–
But until then, I’m just another forgotten character in the background,
Waiting for my turn, hoping you’ll find me worth the respawn.
Pixelated love–bright and shiny, empty at the core–
We keep playing, but nobody’s winning, and I’m tired of the run.