I was typing furiously again,
But this time, I swear I'm calmer.
This time, I'm a little assured of where I stand
I'm a little assured of who I am to you...
Just a little...
But I wonder as I was typing about you again,
Why do you only tell me something important when you call me?
Why do you try to change everything through a chat?
I understand the impact of words,
I am a poetic retard, after all,
But I don't understand why you can't understand the significance of actual talking.
My love, my phone is not my heart.
My phone may beep my response but it is not what I feel.
My phone will be the guide to this journey,
But please remember that I am the destination.
You, my love, are confused about your attention.
You assure me it's just me you're after
But days and days past and I falter to matter
Because I feel like I'm in competition,
Not with a girl, but of myself's recreation.
My phone is not me, darling.
Sooner or later I will have to tell you this my self,
Because I am tired of just talking to you through the phone,
I'm tired of typing my deepest thoughts about you
I am tired of seeming to be in love with a thing.
And I fear that maybe one day,
I'll no longer reply those inane messages I loved so much to read
I'll no longer answer those calls I wait for
I'll no longer deem you important...
Don't get me wrong,
You are important.
But if you fail to give importance to me,
Then I'll just have to reciprocate.
Darling, my phone will always be there,
Day, night, rain or shine.
But, me physically?
I can go away and not answer your calls and messages.
So darling stop texting and calling and chatting...
Talk to me in person because everything we ever say to each other?
We may forget through time or maybe you're just not sober.
Don't give me reasons to give this up just yet, dear.
I may be deep in this charades
But I assure you,
I'll make you sure I will be that someone
That slipped through your fingers.
I will be that someone you lost and will forever regret losing.