in the dim light on the bus coming only from my phone,
i enjoy the empty seat next to me as some kind of symbol, and not just a small commodity
when hearing only my thoughts immersed in the carefully selected songs
that’s when, ironically, i feel less alone and isolated because i realize
it’s when i finally allow myself to think about you,
even though small things remind me of you constantly
like the taxi driver mentioning where you live or someone talking a movie we talked about too
it’s nothing really. but it’s all i have, outside myself
and the way i know how to deal with things is writing about them
sometimes to myself only,
and others are like a lighthouse,
where it stays without motion and while you pass by it’s there to greet you
so what i will do is this:
low alarms, dim lights
messages hidden, smoke signs
messages on walls with my small and confusing handwriting
whispers written on sand
screams when i dive into the sea
long star gazing where i wonder if you’re doing the same, regardless of how far we are and always will be