So many people running around;
so many reports that I don't understand.
Hear me, please, I was praying.
This sea of faces I don't even care about
just multiplies as they increasingly become
even less you.
I can't find you; help me.
Everyone just stares.
Everyone pretends they know what I'm thinking,
their painted faces blurring even more
with the never-ending lack of news.
They don't know why I press buttons
with my left hand,
wear long sleeves every day,
palms always down.
I'm still searching for a sign that you're okay,
but the screen is still becoming blank
and I don't have my light with me.
I'm not ready to give up now.
Not on you.