yours truly

blue light floods my room,
illuminating the dark and i can
hear the familiar chime,
one after another after
another.

i can’t help but reach out for you.

let’s pretend that i can hear the thrumming
of your heartbeat, miles away
in time with the way
your texts flood my phone
and you flood my mind.

i can’t help but keep count.

i sit up, sheet rumpled, tired eyes
but wait in anticipation—
i know you’re not done yet, and i am
here for you;
rant to me.

i can’t help but listen in rapturous silence.

i’ll scroll through our conversations,
smiling in nostalgia,
the way they seem to overlap simply
because there was too much to say all at once
and not enough time, and

i can’t help but fall in love with you.