Telephone | Teen Ink

Telephone

January 9, 2014
By mwag1 BRONZE, Seattle, Washington
mwag1 BRONZE, Seattle, Washington
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

today I got a new phone number
waves fill this head like my god-forsaken shot in the dark
bullet exits barrel with an intensity that borders
on love
slams the door in your face
but it disappears instantaneously in its rash attempt at humility
we hold hands like we never did
close your eyes and wait with baited breath
this is so much easier than the bridge
closest one: 1 hour 43 minutes walking
or 25 minutes biking
close your eyes and fill the beaten lungs of 10 matches
and moistened sleeve
for the last time
it’s time you pull them back


but a great cavern erodes clammy fingers and sweaty palms
it’s deeper than the one day after the bathroom sink
bend over it
head bowed in a submissive gesture to all that makes you smile
as dry tear makes a run for freedom across the border
but you halt it just as you did that last cigarette
all those moment ago
the phone will stop ringing today
i can feel it like I did when we talked the last time
when that soft voice forced love
“i do too, just in a different way”
another piece of tainted pain slips across a living surface
equally thin
see the head arch back
that ecstasy is vaguely familiar
like when yours leaned into me because you wanted to comfort this fragile
frame
trace up and down your arm
do you pretend it’s him?
bring him here and in this shivering frame the last breath will
rip out
the stitches you never knew you had

sometimes the spiral is triggered by the slightest mention of new york
and from the beautiful lips of the one voice I cant stand to live without
yet the one that needs to be the furthest removed
have I mentioned how much thinner it sounds on the phone
how hushed
how fearful
how tamed, timmed
is this the submissive you’ve talked about so often?
maybe true voice of weakness
or the closest thing to its opposite
but this bowtie is more than your thing
it’s the rope in which I’ll have to hang my other half
suffer through the path with the one neither of us can seem to love
i hate being so sensitive
that was the first mutant born out of true pain
the wall will never be the same
compare it to that of my fortress
why are the gates so small all of the sudden
what happens after six months when the phone stops ringing
what happens when the people at the soup kitchen stop missing you?
what happens when the crushing words finally knock down
that little fence I leaned on for support
if I squint hard enough it looks like solitude from this angle

they never can seem to be classified
so when are you supposed to know if it’s love?

I don’t want the phone to stop ringing
I’m not sure it ever will
today I got a new phone number


The author's comments:
Love and emotion through a teenager on one hundred percent overdrive most of the time

Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.