Don't pick up your phone
By ruthless48
I step back just short of the reality slap in the face
Red handprints
just fade
they don't erase
Now I lie
Hitchhiker's Guide
aside
feeling like your spine and bones
Like I'm never alone
but lonely
I'm a desert of ghosts
in a room of pursed lips
and pot roasts
And then the pain shoots right through
I never
had or will have you
Sometimes, I want you to feel the knife in
my heart
But when your chest bleeds like black velvet art
I
cry at your knees
it was the serpent
And we've all heard that
one before
Then you forgive me once more
Patient calm voice
on the phone
Like strokes through my hair
Making me want you
more than an end to a war
Bringing me to my knees
Leaving my
heart like grated cheese
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Copyright 2012 ruthless48