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When You Call

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I’m such a funny kid; I almost managed to fool myself. I thought that maybe, maybe, if I found someone else, someone who told me cute things like confetti in a plastic heart (pretty but ultimately useless) maybe, maybe your words (like landmines going off throughout my head- watch where you step) would cease to mean so much more to me than letters in some particular order ever should. But after just a few days (endless silence a part of me is missing where were you?) it’s become horribly apparent that it’s not going to work that way. I miss the sound of your voice... I hate the fact that I’m always the one to say hello and you’re always the one to say goodbye. Do you ever think about me (images and laughter and I swear I love love love you) like I think about you? [you’re the brightest light behind my eyes.] because god I swear even when they’re pressed against someone else, yours is the only name my lips can form. My heart is such a traitor. I hate this, god I hate this why would you do this to me? but it wasn’t you it was me me me all me and god I’ve been so stupid to think that you could ever care about me but no that’s wrong you do care about me but it’s too much and it’s all wrong and it will never be enough and when I talk to you I don’t know whether to laugh or cry because even when you don’t speak I can hear that you love me but you’re still so.far.away.





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