The Text Drafts

My Notes app is a museum of almosts—

rooms full of sentences

that never learned how to leave.

﹁﹂

One starts with “hey,”

like a timid knock,

and ends with me deleting the whole hallway.

﹁﹂

Another is dated Tuesday,

which is funny, because I wasn’t okay

on Tuesday.

(I wasn’t okay on Wednesday either.)

﹁﹂

I wrote you a careful paragraph

about how your silence

lands on my chest like wet laundry,

heavy and hard to ignore.

﹁﹂

Then I panicked

and replaced it with:

“u good?”

﹁﹂

I typed your name so many times

It began to look misspelled,

like love does

When you stare too long.

﹁﹂

Sometimes I reread the drafts

and feel proud—

Look, I can say the truth—

and sometimes I feel embarrassing,

like a dog bringing the same stick back

to a person who won’t throw it.

﹁﹂

Tonight I wrote a whole novel

and sent two words,

because two words don’t beg.

Two words don’t bleed.

Mostly.