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Literature Text
sunday night
quiet as reflective thoughts
on forgotten gods
sunday night
nothing moves
nothing speaks
every time I blink
someone sneaks in
and changes the lightbulbs
75 watt to 40 to 15
(and the ghosts throw their black coats
into the corners
and come and blanket me)
the phone cord is thick
bunched and grey as a spine
I have lost mine
in this line of slumping days
your name is home
in this vacant lung
would you speak to me?
sunlight through the pinholes in the receiver
please don't give back the rings
I waited for you
(I've got nothing else to do)
your name is home
in this vacant lung
quiet as reflective thoughts
on forgotten gods
sunday night
nothing moves
nothing speaks
every time I blink
someone sneaks in
and changes the lightbulbs
75 watt to 40 to 15
(and the ghosts throw their black coats
into the corners
and come and blanket me)
the phone cord is thick
bunched and grey as a spine
I have lost mine
in this line of slumping days
your name is home
in this vacant lung
would you speak to me?
sunlight through the pinholes in the receiver
please don't give back the rings
I waited for you
(I've got nothing else to do)
your name is home
in this vacant lung
full title "the girl you are trying to reach has been disconnected"
last of the old poems for now. time to write new ones and take pictures.
last of the old poems for now. time to write new ones and take pictures.
© 2008 - 2024 goodbyeafterglow
Comments13
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I really love the ending. you have a way with closing things up