Poetry

Late Night Listener

Remember when I use to text you

Hours before dawn

When sleeping kids dream of beautifully painted pictures

Before the roaster croaks

Before when you held on to every word I type like it would be the last time you read it

Remember that

Well I reminsce my love of the late night listener

I ramble on about life and my expectances

And you agree or throw in your two cents

But one night I stopped

I stopped telling you my thoughts because I wanted to become your late night listener

Sadly my inbox was empty

Your thoughts did not fill one line

My sent messages of questions invaded your mind

Was I asking too much?

Can a listener ever talk?

I let my listener go one night

But he never came back.