you
aren’t real.

the fist that
closes around my heart
when your face
appears in my mind
is a simple
projection

(albeit, one i am
content to
believe).

the pictures on the screen
have been gathering
dust
and grown blurry
with time.

(lights flicker
but the mirage won’t go.)

it’s been two weeks, and
i miss you.

and i miss you.