These Exausting Minutes

“I’m sorry your call has been disconnected”

 

My worst fear has become a sickening reality.

All of your verbal daggers visibly hanging out of my heart,

I lose my ability to breathe, to think, to feel anything

but numbness.

 

As I gaze around my bedroom, the photos cause the rain

of love to pour from my eyes.

My whole body shaking, shivering, I am stuck

in this moment with no control.

I feel my heart seeping out,

like a broken pen

in my pocket, staining me

with the memories I don’t want to feel.

 

What do I do now? Who do I call?

I lose myself in fear of loneliness.

With the tattoo of you on these years of my

life, I am no longer

settled with the idea of loneliness.

I know my mind is an impossible puzzle,

but my heart is far worse.

So do I dial that number burned into my brain?

I have very little faith you’ll be on the other end.

 

For fear of all this becoming to real,

I don’t hit call.

I leave you to extinguish your fire.

but with each moment passing,

I can’t resist poking

the bear. As the line rings,

this time my heart sinks

further into my stomach

with each passing second.

When it stops, I hold my breath,

as “I’m sorry” billows from the other line.

And in that moment, that’s all it takes

to end these minutes of madness.

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