The wait

There's a perfect reflection in the microwave

That sees the spot next to my car,

It's open.

I eat dinner with the boys,

I hold back tears,

I look into the monitor

With a camera on the door,

There's no one.

I wipe off the counters,

I send an angry text ,

I'm hoping this one gets through,

But the microwave says no,

And the text stays closed,

And I’m stuck waiting

For you.