Deaths Phone-call

Call me if you die.

The revved up memories of wars –
between the simplified eyes.

My telephone rings hello.
But, its clutching at meaningly rusty shadows.

Those revved up memories of wars –
compared to being between your thighs

– were nothing.



I have reoccupied the morning. After a few hours resting the ye olde eyes –
I. Have. Awoken. Shamefully but gracefully. I have woke to a reel of past memories performing a skipping segment of each of their tricks. Of which I try to escape but to no luck – my mind is already captivated and held ransom by you again.
I try understand how another person can take your bastard mind hostage for what could possibly be an eternity and an eternity, of which, I cannot afford to pay.

But, on a side note: If one could gaze upon your shades and hear your voice split the frequencies, I would.

I relive heartbreak day in-and out.
I think about your hair, and the kisses –
You gave me.

I think about your hand running along my back.
And the laugh I helped produce –
And soon as I see happiness,
As soon I experience it –
I realise everything I’ve lost about you.

And it’s been that way for years now,
But that just doesn’t change the way I feel.
One makes mistakes, and yes, I made a few.
But no matter how many people I have,

There’s only ever going to be you.

For in this life time I have failed you but in the next I won’t give it half a chance.

One thing time has allowed me to realise is who the fuck cares for anything else.