A Pale Scrawl
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Pinging, tingling

5/31/2016

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Picture
My body a pale scrawl between twisted sheets reluctant to take up space
I still enter and exit on the same side
Feet hitting floor as the mornings grow warmer
Taking the long way to everything

It's late
All has gone night quiet
Whispering don't wake them
Whoever they may be
There is no they
Or we
Only me

But you're a phantom limb pinging, tingling
Sending signals to a primordial brain
I've learned to ignore some
Letting the calls go unanswered
Didn't set up voicemail
Some can't be avoided
Keep ringing until I pick up
Resignation heavy in my voice
Hello.
Yes.
Okay.
Bye.

No I love you anymore
Because the saying
and the doing
were always at odds


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