By: Emma Nicholson

Day and night become irrelevant 
Time is no longer marked by the movement of the sun
But rather the hours passed in front of a screen

Purpose lay in the number of characters typed
In the number of liked photos, of emojis littering texts
Eyes blurring from the time spent staring at images

Images provoking thoughts
Of “It should be me” and “I should be there”
Emotions spiraling downward, surrounded by “if onlys”

Hours of wishing, talking, stalking on Facebook
Pillow talks conducted at eleven a.m.
Pavlov’s bell replaced by the ding of Skype

She is pixels that could be rearranged into something else
Hard squares with sharp edges
Wondering if her hair is still as soft as it once was 

Before her blue eyes were replaced by the black hole of a camera lens
Her fingers glide over keys instead of skin
Contact now falters with the WiFi

Change clinks on the bottom of the glass jar
“You cursed,” a dollar towards the funding of tickets
She’s already booked the next flight

A year here, two there, three trips over the holidays
Plane tickets are expensive nowadays
The fourth visit approaching fast

Excitement, chatter, clothing stuffed in suitcases
One year, six months, three, two
“I can’t do this anymore”

There’s no discussion, no pleading, no crying
Simply cut off with the end of a call
The finality of a computer clicking shut.