Magazine, website & books written by teens since 1989

Dial Tones

My brain never learned to appreciate the soft lines my eyes fed it
until the day you died.
Now, for hours on end I can sit and miss your distorted finger joints
your blurry wrist bones
the way you said things when we were alone

I've found a good drinking friend in the dial tone
I've found the operator's breath to be quite soothing after the fifth round
and I've found that
if I sit long enough with a phone to my ear
my brain makes it easier to imagine that you exist
and so I sit and discuss good times
trace over red lines
close the blinds and pace til the sun comes up
and sometimes I manage to forget
you're no longer here

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