lockscreen interrogation

How many fights have your revolving door of girlfriends started because you refuse to make them your lockscreen? (Do they know about me?)

Do you find it at all pathetic that I was the first person you ever set as the background on your phone, and will likely be the last because the memory still stings? (Do you find it at all pathetic that every woman you take home has my blue eyes and bangs?)

Did you return to looking at whales or sharks whenever you unlock your phone? (Or is it a Pinterest-snagged graphic with Harry Styles lyrics: “we’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me?”)

What did you mean to imply when you told me your favorite pictures of me were with my eyes closed and my tongue out? (How many nights did you stay up late staring at your lockscreen of me?)

Where did all your candids of me disappear to- deleted forever, or locked away in a secret folder? (And how long did it take you to stop staring at my image post-breakup?)

Are you gonna take the bait when you read this? (Are you still stalking my Substack, and my socials, and my Spotify?)

Or did you finally get over me? (Were you aware your friend recently liked one of my posts from years ago?)

Would it help if I changed my lockscreen to a photo of us for the day? (If I pretend to shoulder more blame, will you date a girl who doesn’t remind you of me?)

Currently, I open my phone to a collage of graphics of the sun. I hope you find someone new to brighten your days, because I’m clearly a storm cloud by now.