Halt in time

No one calls for me.

Not by accident

nor by mistake.

The phone doesn’t light up

like it used to.

It doesn’t need to.

I sit where I said I’d be,

as if that still matters.

Time keeps moving,

but halts along me.

I rehearse explanations
no one asked for.

I tell myself

she’ll come back.

I tell myself

this is temporary.

I tell myself

anything

that lets me wait.

But she doesn’t come back.

She knew

where to find me.

Now I stay anyway

like a house

after the lights are gone,

still unlocked,

still hoping

someone remembers

they lived here.