Oct 2013
ring ring ring
The phone continues to yell at me for being lazy.
ring ring*
The automated message plays.
"Hey.. uh, I was just. well it's probably stupid of me to be calling right now. ugh, I shouldn't have. well I just wanted to see how you were. This will be the last time we talk. even though I'm just talking to myself sort of. I just wanted to say..."
Fear and hope and desperation consumes me as I press the talk button. ****, I miss you with every piece of me. and I listen as you continue.
"I just was wondering if I could come get my favorite sweater. It's still hanging on the coat rack. You can leave it on the porch swing and I'll stop by this afternoon."
Tears start to stream down my cheeks as I start to tremble and attempt to catch my fleeting breath.
"Hello?"
You're still on the telephone. Why do I still have hope? This tiny little glimmer, in a tremendous melancholic cloud of fog, barely visible even close up.
I hear you breathing, reminded of the forever that was supposed to be spent by your side.
"Are you there?"
Managing to stifle my sobs I begin to say what I've really been wanting to.
But instead you hang up as I go to let the words stumble out of my mouth ever-so-carefully.
And as that faint glimmer grows more dim, I am reminded of the forever that never was.
The phone continues to yell at me for being lazy.
ring ring*
The automated message plays.
"Hey.. uh, I was just. well it's probably stupid of me to be calling right now. ugh, I shouldn't have. well I just wanted to see how you were. This will be the last time we talk. even though I'm just talking to myself sort of. I just wanted to say..."
Fear and hope and desperation consumes me as I press the talk button. ****, I miss you with every piece of me. and I listen as you continue.
"I just was wondering if I could come get my favorite sweater. It's still hanging on the coat rack. You can leave it on the porch swing and I'll stop by this afternoon."
Tears start to stream down my cheeks as I start to tremble and attempt to catch my fleeting breath.
"Hello?"
You're still on the telephone. Why do I still have hope? This tiny little glimmer, in a tremendous melancholic cloud of fog, barely visible even close up.
I hear you breathing, reminded of the forever that was supposed to be spent by your side.
"Are you there?"
Managing to stifle my sobs I begin to say what I've really been wanting to.
But instead you hang up as I go to let the words stumble out of my mouth ever-so-carefully.
And as that faint glimmer grows more dim, I am reminded of the forever that never was.
