Ellipses by Juliette Sebock

Sometimes I stop myself
from messaging you,
bothering you,
reaching out first
when I know you won’t
just because
I’m afraid

of those three dots,

your phone blinking
expectantly
on the off chance
you’re waiting
too.

I let myself wonder
if this is some sort
of fantasy
realm,
this world where
you’re waiting
for me
like I’m waiting
for you,

where
“she
is
typing”
is a promise in itself,
a vow that one of us
is trying,
breaking down
the walls of silence

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