i check my phone
the single thing that rises me
and i look at one of my only apps
then open it
and then open my missed text
and read it
then scream
then dance
then sing
thank god for that

Sitting relaxed with a bookshop coffee
Enjoying the spacious quiet of my own company
Absorbing the backdrop of aromatic percolation
Of released steam offering sweetened caffeination
The gentle mumur of friends in conversation
The swift taps of bowed students writing late dissitations
And wall to wall literature patiently inviting exploration
This is a bliss that aids meditation.

And then - uninvited -
I'm aware of a cold creeping consternation
At the realisation of the absent phone connection
So I pack my bag with resentful capitulation
Seeking a stronger indication of digital association.

when her ocean sounds
rang the pallid chandelier
i felt my blood cook
and disappear
the pool-house hummed
in the veil of night

i wanted to speak with her
beneath a canopy of lights
i miss her bathroom floor
(the meadow of clothing)
buried like carthage salt
and the hymns she half-sings
into thin air

I thought God was calling me until I realized my phone was dead and
my brain was just reverberating the ringtone that was ingrained in my head next to your name.
I'm so ******* lame, because
it was just the static along with the 100 miles with no signals.
a you showed me what love was when I thought my savior had left me.
I thought you were the one, darling..
only to have you smash my heart as much as my ******* phone screen.
it's okay though,
I have my network to back me up after you left me.
so more more dial tones.

His voice was muffled

He rang,
I answered

Each word he said came with a crackle and the loss of a letter

To me, it didn't matter that I couldn't hear every word he said

To me, he spoke so I would I understand

And I did,
even through the distortion

And every time he spoke,
he meant 'I love you'

I had to call the cops on my ex-boyfriend last Thursday:

Stop looking at me like I did something to you.
I have campus police on speed dial, if you do not leave, I will call them.
You need to stop pretending like I did something wrong to you.
I am dialing the number right now.
Look at me. Look at me! Stop looking at me like you're a victim! I didn't do anything wrong to you. I don't deserve this.
Look, it's ringing. You need to leave.
First, you need to stop looking at me like I did something wrong to you.
No. Leave.
Look at me!
Leave.

You feel a special kind of guilty when you have a stalker. You don't want to believe that someone you ever loved would to this. You really don't want to believe that someone you were ever intimate with, or someone who has pictures that you painted for them in their room would do this to you. You don't want to feel vulnerable. And you really don't want to feel that every few seconds, you need to be looking over your shoulder for them. You just want them to leave you alone.