Over and over in my brain, the ringing:
"Why won't she talk to me?" like a church bell tolling forever.
Amid dried grasses flanking red brick pathways,
paved here to make everything all tarted up,
I smell the air of oncoming spring. It smells brisk.
It smells like shame.
Every vibration of my phone, each twitch
reminding me I'm alive,
makes me think she'll finally talk,
but it's never her.
But as the screen lights up, the grasses
become just that tiny slither less dim, letting me know:
"New Message Has Arrived."
When she finally calls,
I flip it open so nervously that I drop it,
and it hangs up,
and I don't call back.
Author notes
Uhm, the theme of this poem changed a few times while I was writing, but hopefully that all got tossed out while writing. This is about opening up and how necessary a support system is to get through difficult times.
A contest entry
- Can this be happening? by ciara12.
1350 points, ended March 9, 18 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
-
I really like this one, i hope you do good... i love how much symbolism is in it!!!!
thanks for entering
Love forever and always
Ciara Ann
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