Not mattering has never mattered this much
Until it came from you.
Insignificnce is a side effect of being small and
Death is a side effect of crushing sorrow.

When I can no longer reach you I know
That surely, you must not be able to reach me, either.
But none of this happens overnight. Freight trains and
International flights can’t do anything to mend this,
Like nurses without a license and
The wind who lacks a home.

Feeling small was okay
Because back then, at least
I was yours.
But now
I am lost and missing you and
Missing myself
A little too much for comfort.