skypoo

skype.
it's like the friend who lingers on.
the third wheel slightly relied on.
we speak through space waves
instantly not taking many days.
but oh, what a bittersweet friend!
such a help or hurt based on the end.
i look through skype's eyes to yours
from which a small trickle pours
and though your head is now blocks
skype still finds a way and mocks
by making the tears distinctly smooth
so horribly cruel since i lose
all ability to comfort or encourage
and must instead turn the page
and wait for you to recover. like lag.
since all i can do is wipe with a rag
the part of the screen shining your smile
and push the dirt to the corners in a pile.
skype brings us so close but also
retains a questionably false hope.
sometimes emphasizes the distance
other times hides and listens
but however much skype helps me
i'll be glad to be free
free to wipe away tears
free to wipe away dirt
free to love you
free to not be alone.