One Last Time

September 12, 2010
Your phone rings.
You pick up.
You hear my voice on the other end.
You’re in the backseat of a car.

Your ears are ringing.
They don’t stop.
You hear a scream.
You’re on the ground.

Your head is spinning.
You look for your phone.
You call for help.
You’re propped against a tree.

Your eyes open.
You see something blue and black.
You watch it run towards you.
You’re in the air.

Your face hurts.
You breathe in.
You see white.
You’re getting help.

You wake.
You see blue and pink.
You notice people talking.
You’re in the bed.

You take a deep breathe.
You feel the pain.
You wait.
You hear my voice.

My phone rings.
I pick up.
I hear your voice on the other end.
I’m in the back of a van.

My ears are ringing.
They don’t stop.
I hear giggling.
I’m slumped in the back seat.

My head is spinning.
I look for my phone.
I call for entertainment.
I’m leaning against my seat.

I open my eyes.
I see a little hand in front of my face.
I slap it away, hearing giggles.
I’m relaxing in my seat.

My face hurts.
I breathe in.
I see a road filled with travelers like me.
I’m still in the back seat.

I wake.
I see a van filled with sleepers.
I smile.
I’m in my seat.

I hear a buzz.
And another.
I answer.
I hear your voice.

You explain.
I hear the pain.
I hear the sadness.
I hear your words.

I gasp.
My voice breaks.
My ears ring.
My head spins.
Tears flood out.

My face hurts.
I breathe in.
I breathe out.
My eyes shut tight.

I wake.
I look at my phone.
I check the past calls.
I see your incoming call.

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