Dangerous, insidious e-mail.
Should have just gone to sleep.
Cried myself to sleep, perhaps and I would have felt better
But the computer was calling to me,
Come; pour out depression, confusion, sorrow, woe.
Gushing cascade of self-indulgent, babbling drivel
flowed over the keys
into its heart.
And my left ring-finger hovered over the ‘s’ key…
until in a burst of what I called bravery, it hit.
Electronic pulses racing to his account,
embedding themselves inextricably (for me at least)
in his mail.
And he’s read it now. No response, yet.
I wait, and curse my temporary insanity,
and the speed of electronic advancements,
which race far faster than the maturity of the human heart.
October 30, 1992