Personal Space

My mobile credit, vanished
like a hundred lost souls departed
to life. To police calls, shaking.

Friends in fear of lost stability
read *Death* in every spousal shift;
Would burn their vows, screaming "Witch!"
at a slow hand raised to scratch an itch.

I protected mine proactively.

Such sadness departed. Slowly.
The remnant space is dreadfully redirected.