When Tomorrow Comes I Won’t Answer

I’ll probably wake up and you’ll be my first thought like you are every day.

I’ll reach for my phone and wonder if I’ll see your name.

Another like, another comment, I shouldn’t think too much about but I do.

I’ll get on with my day and start it as always.

I’ll get through the afternoon and your name will appear.

Either a generic snap or some test to see if I’ll answer.

I’ll put down my phone and keep working like it isn’t bothering me.

And on the other end, you’ll wonder what it is I’m doing.

Maybe you’ll send another just to see if I answer.

And the day will continue as it quickly turns to night.

And there will be so many things I want to tell you.

Things I used to use as excuses to talk to you.

Reasons to simply say something. Anything.

But I won’t.

Then your name will appear in the form of a text.

Asking a question this way you get an answer.

You don’t think I know your game but I do.

And I’ll want to answer.

I’ll want to talk.

Because you’ve always been my favorite part of the day.

But it’s a conversation that will go unspoken.

And one that will irk you with the same lack of responses as it did me.

So many times before.

I’ll wait a little longer thinking about what I’d say.

But I’ll simply put down the phone.

When tomorrow comes I won’t answer.

At least that’s what I keep telling myself. [tc-mark]