MUSED Literary Magazine.
Poetry

Face to Screen

Mary Kaye Valdez

I remember seeing one another.
We would go running back home from school
hoping the day wouldn’t be over just yet.

Our backpacks would be dropped off
in our rooms before we would run back out
and forget to close the door.

We would dash past our moms as she’d yell,
“Don’t stay out too late!”

But we knew we would see each other
until we could no longer rely
upon the sun for light.

We don’t do that anymore.
We walk back home from school
not even knowing what time of day it is.

We drop off our backpacks in our rooms
and our bodies on our beds too.
This time making sure the door
is closed and locked beforehand.

We would stay there as our moms yell,
“Don’t stay up too late!”

But we know we´ll message each other
until we can no longer rely
upon the battery left on our phones.