Deletion

All I did was slide my finger accidentally-

then, it deleted.

I can't get it back. Searching is pointless.

Anger is tightening in the pit of my stomach;
at the same time, I feel numb.

I describe what happened aloud, but
whomever heard laughed sympathetically.

At first, it felt like a chord had been cut
between myself and the thing I desire most.

I was going to let you know. Now, I'm not sure.

Will you also be infuriated, hurt? No,
at least it didn't happen to you; thus, a lack of full empathy.

My head is congested and my neck is stiff;
my stomach is hosting a brick; my eyes see nothing.

Where did it go? Can I save it?
Like a hopeless lover, I check chance again.

How could I have been so careless?
The moment passed quickly, less than an instant.

In that time, I erased time-
time that you still find and I have completely lost.

If I had copied down a few favorite segments,
maybe I could forgive the mistake.

The good and the plain vanished before I blinked.
Proof of existence went with them.

The only sentiment lingering is nostalgia,
such as when I sorely miss the taste of sweet dreams.

Like a dream, it faded away and bitter reality woke.
That pain, if you know it, is an understatement.

And yet, oddly enough, I feel slight relief;
the evidence of my entire association is gone.

Perhaps you should get rid of it immediately,
and we'll start afresh with wisdom.

I won't know what to do when another comes along
because the scar is there, permanently.

What do other people do? And you?

Violent emptiness hangs in the air.
Perfect words are like tomorrow's rain; sorrow and sensitivity remain.