It’s all me,
because you never have anything to say.  
I fill the silence
with my nonsense.  
I fill the silence with me.  

There’s too much me
in this date.  
There is
no us,
because I’m inhaling
the summer air
and chewing this buttery bagel

while you’re on your phone
just scrolling and refreshing
secondhand experiences.  

My hands sway
with my useless tales
as your hands hold your attention.
Your thumbs sliding the screen
that is brighter than the words I waste.
This is all a waste.

There isn’t enough honey
in my tea to take this bitter
******* you call company.