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Nigdaw Feb 6
I feel my phone vibrate
in my jeans pocket
even though it rests
in front of me on the desk
like a severed limb
can still itch
Nigdaw Sep 2023
I want to lose so much weight
even my own phone won't recognise me
Coleen Mzarriz Oct 2022
There will come a time where we will put all our wishes in hopes of the world favoring our unmet needs. There is cruelty, there is emptiness, there are ghosts, there are cemeteries, there are parks comfortably sitting under the tree, there are seas yet to be discovered, and then there's me picking up the phone and waiting for you to answer.

I know you've been busy lately, lifting yourself up like a broken love song, finishing the last verse of moving forward—and I wait for you here, in hopes of your answering. Even your voicemail I miss, and I long for your broken body inside my head. Your voice I could hear everywhere. Familiarity sinks in while I look into the eyes of every soul I meet—not once did I see you there, but I see you now in every blinking second, in every touch of the flickering lights, and the darkness envelops them with an embrace.

The traffic lights, the piano hustling, the cars beeping, your hands softly ruffling my hair, lightly poking my now bitten cheeks, and I let out a laugh I've been meaning for you to hear. Reminding you of childhood, wishing you'd pick up the small crumpled paper and take you back when you were younger. I will be observing you from afar while you correct the choices that you made on your exam. Erasing those youthful drawings you've done and you...going back to your own nostalgia, where you feel most at home.

I lowered my gaze and ran as fast as I could, chasing the portal that the gods created. I was brought back here, in our home, where our plans were scattered in the room. Where our tears meet on the other side of the bed. Where our hands almost reached the final step of the ladder, and then there's light waiting, trying to take us in.

But you did not look back, and I went home alone. When I blinked, all I could see was the harsh reality of the world—but this has been my heaven for a long time. I guess there was something that pulled us under and we met—for the last time. I tucked you into your old house's bed, where you could sleep peacefully at night with the people you never forgot; I gently brushed your soft silky hair while the light waited outside the room.

And now, we're far away again, like how the lighthouse watches every night for travelers to come pass her by—in hopes they overcome the sea in comfort and safety. I watch you leave again and I wait for another lifetime. Next time, I hope you pick up the phone.
This one is for you. Just in case you visit my page. The door is always open, love.
Kamal Aug 2022
Why you can reach me
But I cannot
You text, I am there
I text
You are no where to be be found
Your holding your phone in your in hand
Did you put it down?
It is your third hand
Ignoring me, playing hard to get?
Do I bore you?
Just say so, **** it
I can move on …
Odd Odyssey Poet Jul 2022
Please call me back,
written message in the network's text. I don't have
enough airtime; so I'll borrow some. Knowing it's
not the best—in the fact of being underpaid.
I haven't been paid this month, so it's still a dream
of moving house. The funds are never enough,
but just tuck shop money, and a gin allowance for a
couple laughs.

But I'll call you soon.

7.50, left in my bank account. Maybe I could
pull out six to make the call. Insufficient funds to
complete this transaction,
the screen read in bold.
Feeling insufficient, sufficiently to say I've worked my due.
If I had a girlfriend; which place could I take her to,
and what would we do? As I'm broke and empty on funds
and dreams in my pocket. While driving past the mansions
of my two bosses.

But I'll call you soon.

I'm running out of rhymes, without any airtime
to Google new ones on Rhymezone. So I'm just
staring at the phone, hoping you make the repeating call.
I missed it the first time you beeped me, knowing I was
feeling tearful in my room alone. I must have been so focused
on staring at the pictures on the wall, to hear your call.

But I'll call you soon.

As both of my lines have pending debts, and I'm not
keen on borrowing  money to have debts with friends.
But in the end—your fun size pride rarely cares.
Still the anxiety of not making an effort to call back,
pushes a reason to swear. To pull my hairs, struggling
on why—why I can't return your call. As if I don't care
at all.

But I do; I'm just fighting to call you soon. Unfortunately
in the end; I never had the chance to support you my
friend. I never returned that call, and it's doing in my head.

It's an unfortunate one missed call.
Stalwart Dull Feb 2022
9th day of February I was happy
5 times, I wish you were here
Breaths heavily on count of 3
But after this is another three
0% possibility that somebody will help me
As I passed out around 6
I heard your voice called me 3 times
8 steps to follow your voice
But there's no one to see, it's 0 visibility
Because the 9th day of February ended sorrowfully —tin🍃
Nigdaw Feb 2022
there are days
when even your own phone
doesn't recognise you

stranger face

it's when you find out
who your real friends are

the ones who make an effort
to talk to you
Kai Jan 2022
Forgot what I searched for to find heaven.
But I know that at the age of seven
I seized my mother’s phone and found a god.
He led me to an arresting world with strings.

Strings that swept your hair the way the wind does
when your ego would reach the sparkling skies.
They touched your heart no matter how heartless.

I refused to blink because if I did
I would miss a second of his gentle
fingers gliding across the maple fretboard.
And no sane person would want to miss that!

Strings danced back and forth as he played a chord.
Oh, his fingers grew sore, but calluses
helped desensitize them from aches and pain.

The instrument he mastered was waiting
to call him master cause’ guitars love how
he manipulates and makes them his slave.
Strings begged for his touch, for sounds they could make.

My eyes felt heavier than dense gym weights.
I mustn’t stop gazing if I want to
stay lost in heaven. So **** riveting!

“School is tomorrow.” “******, I forgot.”
“Give the phone back. Hmm, what are you watching?”
“Heaven.” “What did you say?” “I said heaven.”
Mom didn’t say anything afterward.

A few hours came, she asked for the phone.
I gave it to her, prepared my backpack.
Maybe in a different universe.
I would have proclaimed, “Don’t take the phone back.”
My first encounter with the most remarkable instrument: the guitar.
Anya Dec 2021
The title is simply
a culmination of my whims
like the whim that keeps me
glued to my screen
tap taping away
tap tap

While my room looks like some monster's den
And I engorge myself on those chocolate almonds

My eyes grow hazy
As my waistline grows larger
The yellow light pierces my eyeballs

As I be tap
If you're feeling like me right now, you're not alone. It's so easy to get swallowed up by our screens, fight it, fight it so you have no lasting regrets for the time will slip through your fingers like sand.
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2021
those late texts
till my phone dies,
laughing by the corner
as i try not to,
  make a sound.
and spending late calls
on limited wi-fi.
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