Her eyes were lined in red,
she said
"the phones arent working."
Her voice is shaking.
"Come again?"
"The phones aren't working. Theres an emergency."
Her voice cracks on that word.
Emer
gen
cy?
Almost a question.
Though we know its not.
"What can I do for you?"
"Get the paramedics."
And her hands are shaking.
I grab the phone.
My hands start shaking.
"Theres an emergency."
Emer
gen
cy?
"She says he's not breathing."
And shes barely breathing.
With her eyes lined in red.
But she manages
answering
the four questions
they ask.
Only four.
Because its an Emergency.
Emer
gen
cy?

I didn't expect my phone to ring,
He didn't expect an answer.
Which
sums up
most of our
Interactions.
We make small talk at 4 A.M.
Like its the anthem of the unattached
But that's more than nothing.
If either
One of us                                              
Had any strength
We'd move on with our lives.
But I guess instead                            
We have our minds set
That its better
To be alone together.

He pulled my head to his chest.
And with his fingers on my neck,
he said
"It doesn't have to mean a thing,
if you want to spend the night with me
We can lay here just like this,
we can stay here just like this."
I kept my head on his chest.
And with my fingers on his wrist,
I said
"Will you turn the TV down."
so he turned the TV off,                    
and he kissed my cheek.                    
And I kissed his mouth.                      
And he smiled into me,                        
and I didn't push him out.

I searched a lot today
Mama,
for your God.
tried to find the truth and make it stay
Mama,
what is God?
I prayed a lot today
Mama,
to your God.
asked him why he had to make me this way
Mama,
asked your God.
I yelled a lot today
Mama,
yelled at God.
from what I hear, I was made the wrong way
Mama,
thanks to God.
I cried a lot today
Mama,
where was God?
cried about you, and the things you used to say
Mama,
because your God.
I learned a lot today
Mama,
about myself
I learned I'm not perfect, and not perfect is okay
Mama,
you're no God yourself.

"Have you ever been in love?"
And I think that I have.
But the memory, much like
the hue of his eyes,
is a bit too far gone to really
grasp.
"Have you ever been broken?"
And I think that I have.
But the lesson, much like
the tone of his voice,
is a bit too far gone to really
grasp.

He says
"I don't miss her anymore"
And I know
he's just being polite,
because it's me.
I say
"I don't think about it anymore"
And he know's  
I'm just being vague,
because it's him.

He made sure

to breathe me in,

"One last time."

     he said.

                                    And there is beauty

                                    in unfinished endings.

    “Can I call you,

        my lion?”

he jeered more for a smile,

   than a question.

                                     And there is happiness

                                     for tormented cynics.

He laced our fingers,

as though a corset.

   ”Does this have

        to end?”

                                      And there is romance

                                      in short stories.