The phone rings
Hello..

Hi
(My heart leaps for a second
I haven't heard this voice for at least three weeks)
How's the weather down there?
It's just snowed, my vehicle is Brocken,
A dead starter,
My starter is dead today too,
No work
No play
But a little bundle of energy in my chest
But not motivated to do anything)
Cold.. snowy, you?
(People say these conversations have little or zero value...)
Nice, thanks
How are you?
(...But it does. Cause in 1978 when it was dry
The crops didn't grow and
People went near dead)
Good
(He's always good. It's a talent that comes naturally
To him, but the ready of us struggle to get to.
I feel like I have to work so
Hard just to break even with everyone living
With what seems like effortless ease.
But he struggles not.)
Cool
(At least he struggles not as far as I can see,
With a heart as big as that there has to be some struggle there.
With care, and affections, comes hope,
And hope hurts until it's fullfiled,
And he hopes, I know he hopes,
Or he wouldn't call,
and I can hear it in his voice,
See it his eyes.
I want to succeed, just to prove you right
For believing in me)
We talk a bit
I hang up the phone,
And get busy.

(Hi)

Those video chats
That lone meeting
I can forget you not
I can forget nothing
Though I am very forgetful
That I may forget to breathe
But I can not simply forget you

Those youthful eyes
The way you told lies
I can get over them not
I can not get over them
Though I have a great amnesia
That I suffer so much 'cause of
But I just can't get you out of my head

Those gorgeous curves
That near-perfect height
I can't just un-remember it
I can not ever forget you right
Though you did break me as often
That I fail to trust anyone else now
But I still have an immortal hope left for you

Sweep clean the system
Shards of glass and bullets bloom
Party's over, no survivors
Shredded red ties and silk pant suits
Will we cower in glass houses
Stained panes fell through these rooms
War bloomed in the fresh-flowered noon

Don't believe what you see
Truth hides in deceit
Patron saint of finest filigree
What is gold but an excuse for filling blood seas

Chop shop, our listless hearts
Power brokers in bulletproof cars
Build your walls, we'll take your streets
The first house to burn is the house of greed
Thankfully you sold your souls for gasoline

If this is the end of everything
I'll make sure it's beautiful and free
Like fire off the edge of an endless sea
And you'll be the first to confess to fake history

You stopped making sense
Every morning, you come back to life again
Applying bobby pins and a foolish grin
Alcohol brimming from the clothes you're in
–––––
Its an effort to care, to open up to you
You're scattered across the course
You're resting on the torn roof
While two years before
I leaped and no one knew
–––––
I'm calling from the phone, only for the last time
Words fail me all the time, still you go on the line
I'd rather you not worry or compare to my strife
So I'll call from the phone for the very last time
–––––

Well I hope you'll be happy to know that I hate you and I want absolutely nothing to do with you.
And it doesn't hurt at all that you don't want me as bad as you do her.
But it's so hard to look in your eyes and try to recite those words "I hate you" because it's untrue.
I love you entirely and I want absolutely everything to do with you.
It hurts so much that you don't want me.
And I want you to know that it's okay.
That I wont end up lying on the midnight grass on our favorite hill.
That I wont cling the picture I kept of you to my chest.
That I wont chase down fifty-four pills with a bottle of chardonnay.
And I wont think of you as the letters are too blurry to read and I feel my body float to the sky and become a new planet in the back of the galaxy.
And it wont be your fault if I call you and you find me too late and the feeling of your tears hitting my lips will be the last thing I endure.
It'll all be worth it in the end because your hands will be on my neck and my back on your lap and I'll feel like I'm dancing in this dark beautiful space.
Don't worry.

*I wont.

I love when my phone lights up.

Calls, texts, notifications.

I love to see when someone cares enough to check on me,

To see how I am,
To love me.

I love when my phone lights up,

Because I've gotten much too good at memorizing the darkness.