I'm not sure why I won't pick up the phone, But I don't blame you for not calling. I remember watching That old video Before staying home Another few years. The number of days We see our parents Shrinks like a log. You text to say, “I love you.” But I don't think You mind We don't talk anymore. I miss my niece, But it feels I've never met her. I can't believe The days are the days I will live for another year or two at least. There's nothing bad about them, And I think I'll be alright. But the weight of time Is suffocating. I was always smothered by something. Why do all the poems sound the same? I am happy. I am happy. I am happy. Really.