Unread Message
My contact sits gray in your chat list like a house with the porch light broken and the curtains drawn all year
I type out whole thunderstorms, hit send
then watch the dots never appear
You are online for everyone
flashing green like a cheap bright open sign humming over late night streets
But my words float in a dead inbox where nothing lands
where nothing meets
You say you care when you need a soft corner
then disappear into your bright blue feed again
While my questions rot in the scrollback
skeleton threads of what we almost might have been.
Every meme, every selfie
every half-warm take gets you a stream of hearts piling up like sugar on your plate
I drop a piece of my actual heart in your direction and it slips straight past your gate
You claim you are busy, claim you are tired
but somehow you find the time to answer every passing fan
While I sit here watching digital tumbleweed roll past the ghost of our impossible plan
I learned your patterns better than my own sleep cycles
knew which hour to speak to dodge the crowd
Now I see I was just one more extra scribbled in the margin while you practiced being loud.
I am done being your unread message blinking red in my chest while your eyes stay glued to another screen
I am done drafting paragraphs you will never see just for the chance to stand somewhere in your routine
If you cannot hear me when I whisper or when I bleed letters down this glowing wall
You do not deserve the voice that finally learns to tear the wires out and crawl.
You liked the idea of me as a patient listener stored in your pocket for when your drama spilled over its rim
You liked that I never asked for center front
just clapped from the shadows while your spotlight stayed grim
You wanted confession without confession’s weight
a place to dump your Sunday night panic and Sunday night shame
But when my hands started shaking you backed away slow
said you did not have the energy for someone else’s flame
Funny how empty you became the second I needed the thing I had given you since the first hello
Suddenly I was asking for too much by not wanting to drown out here alone in this snow.
I am done being your unread message blinking red in my chest while your eyes stay glued to another screen
I am done drafting paragraphs you will never see just for the chance to stand somewhere in your routine
If you cannot hear me when I whisper or when I bleed letters down this glowing wall
You do not deserve the voice that finally learns to tear the wires out and crawl.
This is the last wall of text you will never answer
the last midnight spill you will not read
I am pulling my heart out of your notifications so it stops buzzing in a pocket where it can never be freed
Erase me, archive me
stack me with the others whose faces you never learned to see without a yawn
I am already gone, already walking
already singing to a future where I am not an add-on.
Let my last seen turn into never mind while the typing bubble fades from my side
I am sending my next words somewhere they do not have to beg to exist inside a loop.