Scrolling by Monica Barry

Your words are trapped in blue bubbles
timeless. infinite.
The cord hangs from your dresser in the dark of your room
After a misty breeze knocks the water from the windowsill,
Onto the cool, hardwood floor.
Lost in a world of dreams,
While the words still singe the edges of your phone.
I love you
I miss you
I care for you
Take my heart, share my soul
Trapped indefinitely in the bright hue of pixels,
Each gripping the attention, demanding to be read
Demanding to be felt
To sting. To burn. To tear.
To break.