Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Under warm blankets I choke on stale air, waking all at once.
Still, it takes time to realize the
stickiness on my cheeks.
We need to talk. Such an
understatement, coming from you. Do you
think we need to talk?
My stomach is clenching and twisting
at the painful sounds ringing through my mind, all coming from
your tainted lips.
Curling tighter in on myself I finally
cave and reach the phone.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Steady fingers surprise me as they enter
all too familiar numbers,
the combination to my demise.
Beeeeeeeeeep.
Hey... Call me when you get this... Ciao.
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