CY (3/10/93 / Round Rock Texas)

Calling You

I’m staring at the phone, your name is highlighted,
But I can’t press the button.
I stare at it all day and its ripping me apart,
I’m crying out my soul, throwing up my heart
I press the button, it rings once, I hang up.
I hurl my phone to the wall, it falls to the ground,
But it’s still in one piece, although I am not.
I’m all wrapped up in blackest and clothes but I can’t
Get warm. The tears are like ice on my face I swear
That I cry blood.

I crawl to the other side of the room, I pick up the phone
There your name is, highlighted in that cursed orange line
Telling me to call. I open a text box. I let my fingers do
Talking, when I look down it says I love you but I look,
At your name and I know you don’t love me back.
And my heart turns black and a fire churns. I call again
Still cold, still crying, still empty. It rings, once, then twice…
I hang up. I stare at it but it’s blurry.
Everything is blurry, because of the bloody tears in my eyes.
Your name is still highlighted, I am still crying, I am still cold,
And I am still empty. I press the little button, the list appears,
I scroll down, now the word that is highlighted, it says delete.
I stare at it forever, the tears in my eyes turning to ice on my
Cold cheek. Finally I press the button, and your number,
With your name written on is with the little less than sign and
A three next to it vanish. I get up and I walk to my room, feeling
No warmer. I look up to my bed that I will sleep In tonight.
Over that bed hangs a piece of paper, on that paper, in pencil
Is a name, your name, and a number, your number, and next
To the name is a little less than sign followed by the number three.
I stare at it, I walk to bed and I lay down and fall asleep, with the paper
Still above my bed, still cold, still crying, still empty.

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Rudyard Kipling


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