It’s often around 10pm
on random nights
I get the urge
to check your
online footprint

Socials, Google, jail rosters
I gently plod along them all
prodding them for
any signs of life

For years,
your profile was blank
til suddenly
it wasn’t

Your smile smiles
just the same
behind the facial hair you’ve gained
and I resist
the urge to tap
the button to connect

I’m really happy that you are alive

I’m really happy that it seems you’re thriving

I wish that you’d still call me while you’re driving
say there’s something worth reviving
and you’re sorry that you suddenly stopped trying

But

I guess as long as you’re no longer dying
then I can live without your voice replying