the world was so still
i began to wonder
if it had stopped turning
and i did not panic
there was no tragedy
in the thought
for proof of life
i could sit on the edge
of the bed and watch
as the tiny chests
of tiny humans rose
and fell with each breath
but i was afraid
i would smile so loudly
that i might wake them
so i only stayed
for a second
or maybe thirty
returning to the screen,
“why is no one out there
in (cyber) space?
did the world actually stop
and i’m the only one unaware?”
thinking crazy again
pop! a poem appeared
written by someone
whose words i like,
and now i wonder:
is it whose
or who’s?
