I sent another text I knew
From that frightening moment
Of anxious heat
It will be left on read
Left in that infamous pentacle
The two infamous clear ticks
The waiting game, the notification
The blois rushing to your face
To utter dismay and disappointment
The moment you question your worth and goodness
The inferiority and curiosity and checking social media
Looking and comparing yourself
To the moment you start healing
To that day forward you know never to speak to them ever again