Your name still lights up my phone,
Though I know you’re long gone home.
The last text says “be safe tonight,”
I read it when the world feels quiet.
The bubbles freeze, the words don’t age,
Still glowing on a ghostly page.
I scroll through time, I press and hold,
But I can’t make myself let go.
Old messages,
They don’t forget the tone.
Every typo, every sigh,
Still feels like coming home.
Old messages,
A past I can’t erase.
You live in dots that never move,
A silent, frozen space.
I type your name, then backspace slow,
The screen still hums like it would know.
I keep the thread, I keep the pain,
Like it’s the proof you once remained.
Old messages,
I never hit delete.
They say what I can’t tell aloud,
In quiet, steady beats.
Old messages,
They glow when nights are long.
Even if they never change,
They keep me holding on.
