ππ’π¬ππ¨π§π§πππ
If I could go back to the beginning,
back when the signal wasnβt thinning.
I would caution myself against falling
too fast for a connection still loading.
π
When the Wi-Fi starts to buffer,
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itβs a forgotten morning text, and after,
the red router light cuts the laughter,
convos crawl, feelings fade β a disaster.
π
Griefβs cold grip trusses and tightens,
and the signalβs awkward return worsens
the fear inside a heart bearing burdens,
of a lower bandwidth as the gap betwixt widens.




