i made a collect call to your sympathy
but it's not accepting the charges
and you're playing "idon'tcares" for a dial tone
as my fingers stumble, searching for the right numbers
to make you listen.
but i can only leave so many messages
on your [un]answering machine
before i lose my voice altogether
so that i'm left rasping out awkward silences
that fill the notches of your ribcage
leaving that subtle beat that begs to get out
completely trapped behind electrostatic bones
and it's in the emptiness of your response
that i realize our love has been disconnected.
[your veins are telephone wires
but they don't reach your heart.]
and we're using these phones
since we hate to be close enough
to hear the way our breathing patterns clash
so you put an ocean between us
which is swimming with "i'll-miss-yous"
and "distance-makes-the-heart-grow-fonders."
[or perhaps, it's "fondness-makes-the-heart-grow-distant"
since love feels more than just a few thousand miles away.]
and the cracks between my fingers have never been emptier
even as the spinning second hand begs for my open palm
but time isn't meant for holding
and it's doing nothing to mend my breaking heart.
[so your second cliché of the day is wrong too:
time doesn't heal any wounds.]
all this distance has torn us more than just miles apart
it's ripped iloveyous in half and forevers have been shredded
like sheets of paper between absent-minded fingers on transatlantic flights
to "i-love-you-for-never"
and now you're living in tomorrow
fiftyfourhundred minutes into my future
and i'm nothing but the past tense to your present
so in these ever-tiring conversations tapped from broken fingers
i've noticed that you started ending everything
to do with me in an ed.
[you've turned into disguised goodnights that are really goodbyes
and i-loved-yous instead of i-still-dos.]
the problem is that i replaced the "i" in "live"
with an "o" so that i can't see without you
so that "i" don't even exist without you
and what's worse is i'm seven digits and twenty-five cents
short of calling you and you wouldn't answer anyways.
[you've told me that i beg the question
but all i ever wanted was eight letters in exchange
for pushing those seven numbers.]















Comments
wow, this is just gorgeous.
wow. the feeling behind this... it's painful, but lovely.
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.automatic...
I i m a g i n e...
____ibelieve____
i really adored:
'im left rasping out awkward silences
that fill the notches of your ribcage'
fantastic stuff!!
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i would bleed for lestat
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~There is life before death...but sometimes you're dead before you die.~
i'm glad you don't think it's too long. i constantly think i have too much to say and that it just gets boring.
thank you so much.
that means a lot to me.
i don't think this is really failing. i'm actually pretty pleased with it. it's just that recently i haven't been able write anything and i've been struggle with this piece for days. so it gives me an iffy/self-conscious feeling to submit it.
AND you are wonderful
(nice choice of title btw too!)
I especially loved this part
so you put an ocean between us
which is swimming with ill-miss-yous
and distance-makes-the-heart-grow-fonders.
[or perhaps, its fondness-makes-the-heart-grow-distant
SERIOUSLY. sosobeautiful.
--
we will fold and freeze together far away from here.Previous Page12345...Next Page