The evening's coming.

I stare at that green bubble.
Your words always came so easily. So quickly.
It was as though each letter chose the path of least resistance from your heart and your fingertips
And never had time to waste getting ******* in your brain

My thumb hasn't moved. Tell her. TELL HER. You're going to regret it.

Tell her about how you kiss her photo when her lips are miles away hoping she'll feel it if you close your eyes real hard.

Tell her about how you see girls in the public gardens and imagine how happy she must look in her sundress, surrounded by the flowers she raised from seeds, how proud. How she must shine

Tell her how badly you want to kiss away her tears, how you would never let another evil thing hurt her if only she was here.

Tell her it's going to be okay. Tell her