I will not be:

A late night call,

An afterthought

A guilty twinge,

A little prick in your conscience

A sudden jab of memory,

That I still exist, brushed teeth

Knees drawn, hugged to my chest,

Playing with the tassles of

My silken stole

Staring at my phone,

Eyes glued,

For bits you throw my way

Every once in a while,

When at the end of your day

You do your obligatory round

Of social catching up.

With me.

Well, fuck you.