a_little_wisp
02-13-2009, 02:26 AM
I, um, somewhat 'bleeped' out the expletives.
Phone Talk
I'll have to be honest with myself with what's happening here:
Certainly,
This is no more than I counted upon
While dialing your number three weeks back
And saying "hello" for the first time
Out of many,
Stranger.
This is no more than 8 A.M. chit-chat
Too comfortable in sleepy stupor
To realize where the boundaries lie -
Close enough to cross,
Sneak.
This is no more than scarlet confessions
Delirious discussions dealing with dirty dreams
And unturned stones
Revealing too much,
Confidante.
This is no more than drunken speech -
"I need to see you" to "stay the night, we'll talk "
And touch too much
For friendship's safety,
Charmer.
This is no more than
"You feel like home" - Right?
You terrify me with vague f*cking words as I
Walk on eggshells and
Balance glass on fingertips
Soaked in grease
Which I'd like to -
Shatter.
Because, really, with miles, women, and life between us...
These are no more than late-night phone calls,
Your gravelly voice pressed against my ear
Mine sounding tired in yours
- Musing to myself:
"If I'm home,
Will you be paying rent?" -
With images of each other skewed by foggy glimpses,
Broken reception, and sh*tty cellular devices
-Destiny can't be a SIM card away, can it?-
Running through our parched imaginations, fueled by things
We've always sought but never found.
I'll tell myself, and you,
To hang up now, for
This is no more than phone talk.
...Although, between the liquid wordplay
And easy silence, I can't help but notice this is
So much more than "hello" and "goodbye"
And all the
Words
Laughter
Expletives
Sighs
Songs
Silences
Between us -
B*stard.
For I've come to find that this is no more than
Dangerous,
Considering the sound I dread most each night between us is:
"Click."
I obviously wrote this in a fit of teenage angst awhile back.
Phone Talk
I'll have to be honest with myself with what's happening here:
Certainly,
This is no more than I counted upon
While dialing your number three weeks back
And saying "hello" for the first time
Out of many,
Stranger.
This is no more than 8 A.M. chit-chat
Too comfortable in sleepy stupor
To realize where the boundaries lie -
Close enough to cross,
Sneak.
This is no more than scarlet confessions
Delirious discussions dealing with dirty dreams
And unturned stones
Revealing too much,
Confidante.
This is no more than drunken speech -
"I need to see you" to "stay the night, we'll talk "
And touch too much
For friendship's safety,
Charmer.
This is no more than
"You feel like home" - Right?
You terrify me with vague f*cking words as I
Walk on eggshells and
Balance glass on fingertips
Soaked in grease
Which I'd like to -
Shatter.
Because, really, with miles, women, and life between us...
These are no more than late-night phone calls,
Your gravelly voice pressed against my ear
Mine sounding tired in yours
- Musing to myself:
"If I'm home,
Will you be paying rent?" -
With images of each other skewed by foggy glimpses,
Broken reception, and sh*tty cellular devices
-Destiny can't be a SIM card away, can it?-
Running through our parched imaginations, fueled by things
We've always sought but never found.
I'll tell myself, and you,
To hang up now, for
This is no more than phone talk.
...Although, between the liquid wordplay
And easy silence, I can't help but notice this is
So much more than "hello" and "goodbye"
And all the
Words
Laughter
Expletives
Sighs
Songs
Silences
Between us -
B*stard.
For I've come to find that this is no more than
Dangerous,
Considering the sound I dread most each night between us is:
"Click."
I obviously wrote this in a fit of teenage angst awhile back.