The Race

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And what’s this that’s going on?
Nothing to do with me, once more.
Some personal issues I’m sure, once more.
So I wait up for your call, once more.
All these unspoken words running laps around in my head.
Like they were running a marathon.
Getting tired every second.
Slowly running out of fuel.
Until the phone finally rings.
Should I answer, or let the voicemail get it?
Like I’ve gotten from you so many times.
“You have reached the automated voicemail box of…”
*Click*
Hang up.
Now the words are racing in my head, not at a steady pace anymore.
They’re about to explode.
*Click* *Clack*
*Bang*
No more racing unspoken words.
The race is now over.
I am the one to pull the trigger at the finish line.
I, I AM THE ONE TO STOP THE RACE.





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