On read…

On read. That’s where I sit with the silent thoughts of your mind. Pushed to the side for more important things going on in life. In read. I wait for a response I don’t seen to be worthy of. As I question why I should cater to ask and the above. On read. It’s in my face like a an unfiltered slap putting me in my place. I can hear the distance resting conversion staring at tired name. On read. It’s not been hours but days that creates the wonder of significance lingering about. I find it humorous there’s no reply as if words are actual sound. On read. I’ll leave my exposure with you before I shave myself into being belittled. I’m not one for the inconsistency of being fiddled. On read. I’ve become the pause just in case something for meaningful fell through. My guess is you can’t juggle me in bcuz fit me you have no use. On read. It doesn’t matter that much to me. Delete…