Static

What we used to do-

A scarecrow of the past.

A glass of red on the couch,

Laughter echoing from the walls.

Now distance – the ever growing void -

My only vice -

Between us with no end,

I hold my breath, my pupils adjust to the screen.

Your smile is there,

I can hear your laughter –

Yet I choke,

Yet my lungs are tight.

I close my eyes and dream

Of when distance was only a momentum,

Because we could always be there,

Always turn the corner to find – us.

Now, staring into countless pixels,

I can only think of one thing to say,

That sums it up, the desperation,

                              I miss you.