various crises
in which my sidekick gets broken.
These dreams always end with me sitting
with my elbows on my knees,
cradling my phone with the screen
dangling
pathetically to the side.
In this moment, I dream that I'm trying
to imagine myself
making the best of it,
but I know deep inside that I will never love my phone the same;
I'm already plotting ways to get a replacement.
I sincerely hope to god that this is my brain dealing
with a metaphor
for some other struggle.
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