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You didn't tell me we'd be listening
to music when I picked up the phone.

Your dulcet tones danced through my velvet
head and perched upon the crescent
moon that was my lips.

You could see my body drifting away,
so you took my hand and saw that I moved
in time with you, sailing upon the song
that jumped over a telephone line.

In awe, my tongue was pinched,
my ears became a playing field for
all the ***** you had to bat.

Birds began to sing in the early hours
as we put away the chitter chatter

But it didn't stop my phone from
glowing

me from glowing,
you from lighting up.
A phone call with a lover leaves the sweetest tastes on your tongue.
Raven Feels Apr 23
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, pen ink cries too:(


fines that cant be identified on the near

or the writes put on paper they die they cry

got my reasons for the sacred peasants and held daemons

nurtured weapons earned upon various treasons

came surrendered on your questioned gazes

that i fond a sweet spot on my unsolved mazes

unhealthy for the mind

my ears brought up to a permanent blind

you descend my pride

to fault on knees loose

cut on shortage of scenarios to choose

amazement on the major dominance captive of my shoes

leading calls to a song never told never sold


                                                                                     --------ravenfeels
Ava Courtney Mar 26
At 2:52 a.m as you dozed off to sleep, I hung up the phone.
That's when I realized what the meaning of happiness was,
I found a natural drug for all my pain and anxiety.
It's your voice, your smile.
I'm in love with your smile.
I'm in love with you and I haven't even touched your skin.
I've fallen in love with your soul. I’ve found the light I've been searching for.
How can I be in love with someone that I’ve never met in the flesh?  
You're trapped between pixels on a phone
Between the muffled words
Poor connections,
And long pauses.
You brought light to the darkest parts of me,
You make me feel safe from the things that hurt inside.
And I know we are both broken but you took my heart and placed it back together.  
At 2:52 a.m I thank the universe for bringing us together
Because the odds of us ever meeting were slim.
Now its 2:53 a.m. and I realized that I can never tell you this.
Anais Vionet Nov 2020
I see you in dreams,
those inconsequential things,
shaped in busy slumber.

I call to you - with
continual mutterings
- but do you listen?
nothings may be sweet, but they're nothings
Alex Scaife Jul 2020
I've got numbers that never show.
I'll never see another text
From those asleep in an oak box.
I screenshot them; kept like dead leaves

I hope it never ends
I hope it never .
Sharon Miedema Apr 2020
You still miss her so much.
I feel it when I touch the keys of your laptop.
Wet from your teardrop.
Last night there was a birthday party.
For a boy that was a zombie.
He didn't exist, only his mother.
In a ghost home like no other.
Dark and brown.
In a ghost town.
I watched them from very far away.
I watched a mother and child that used to play.
You'll find ways.
You'll find ways and people and days.
It will be so hard, impossible and too much.
Like trying to sleep when there's nothing that feels right for your body to touch.
And it all falls apart again.
And you have to start again and again.
Always with too many things happening.
And no certainty and the world spinning.
On and and on.
How to go on? How to hold on?
Falling backwards again into the storm.
Uncomfortable and cold in every form.
The calm before and after the hit.
And the loving inside surrounding it...
You just hold me when everything falls.
When the siren calls...
19-01-20
René Mutumé Mar 2020
In 2020 we are the motors of the mechanics we drive
in the bed
of other work days
as the bees fly less

and
the drive of somersaulting mad men, calmer
than a pool of iced days off
after the pool boy
cleans up
start screaming,

although it’s universal when you rise, and my limbs burst
through these elsewhere tossed things, and elsewhere bones
that have no succor in the middle of the sun’s dance, as if:

naïve butchers in the street are sleeping on the bus and
there is no answer from the ricochet dream apart from
keep your **** together
keep your **** together…

and the world is well travelled when you’re smoking beside a dog
and the obliterated silence of a room has a voice,

but the turnstiles open when the poem begins, ah!
the weekend again-this, envelope of random orchids that rustle
and
open,

in the haven of a ***** flat where we find the best corona jokes
new cities
these shaking palms
the way the world works better at 10 am
and the humour of a crazy snake, checking KPIs
again,

and when i wake
i will love this zero
hour
contract
more,

i will worship you and say
yes
yes
YES!
Rose Who Knows Jan 2020
I hear the call of the animals
through the darkness
their piercing need

Searching

Searching

For one another
in the black
stony night.
Literally wrote this as I heard animals calling out to one another in the night
Sofia Ageyeva Jan 2020
How can I use my phone less? Should I?

I use it to reach out to my daughter...
I call my mama every day...

I tell my sister, I will call her
       And set an alarm to do it...
             Oh well...

I can just fly to the opposite coast...
      And hug her little one...
And be a perfect auntie... for one week...

Oh! that's so cheating!
     Ok, I'm cheating....
            But I'm good at it!

Do you know why?
     Because when I see your little one...
        I see you... and I love her so much!

And I'm sorry I wasn't a good sister...
I wanted to...
I planned on being fair, and caring, and supportive...
     When I was 9...
        But when I was 10....
I got jealous...
I didn't even know that I was...

But you know what?
I still ironed your little blankets...
And went to get donated milk for you...
     Yes!
        In the snow!..
           For like 20 min walk through the snow...
Because you needed milk to grow...

            ... and because I love you <3
The phone rings,
Or rather vibrates,
As I stir my instant coffee
Because my Keurig is broken
And I haven’t gotten around to replacing it.
The lady on the other end
Of the call
Says she’s with the bank.
She’s selling identity theft protection subscriptions.
I listen to her
Explain
What that is
With mild excitement growing in my stomach;
Not with regards to the
Subscription,
But over the
Tones and intonations —
The way she breathes:
Softly,
Warmly,
Unconsciously.
I let her run with it,
Feigning curiosity at first.
A question here,
There,
To really get her going.
I wonder when she was last ******?
She asks to verify my name,
Address.
She mentions a credit score package
(Ooh la la)
That will provide me with insight as to whether my identity has ever been
Stolen.
(This call
Is getting steamy)
She tells me that in order to receive the package I need to confirm my enrolment in the subscription.
‘What?
Could you repeat that?’
I can feel it
Tickling,
Licking,
My soul,
As I sip my ****** instant coffee.
I tell her
That I absolutely won’t enrol,
That I refuse,
But that she should be a voice actor
Or that if she was a voice option for Siri
I would surely select her.
She doesn’t have a response,
Choosing to wish me a good evening instead,
And to thank me on behalf of her employer.
‘No,
Thank you dear.
Call this number whenever you like.
I don’t want your talents to go unappreciated by other customers
Who I’m sure are all swines.’
Click.
I stare at the ended call
And fantasize about your voice,
And when you were last ******.
Too bad the coffee is ****.
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