Back of the bus and ignored on the phone
The angel says I should “Leave it alone”.
The devil says “Go get your just deserts!”
My mind in the middle spins wild and hurts.
I wake up in a run-down wooden shack
Unkempt hair stands in colors brown and black.
Grabbing the phone but unable to dial
Hitting the wrong numbers trial after trial.
Drenched in sweat, searching my history
Unsure of where I am suppose to be.
When I finally reach the voice on the line,
Awake in a panic, my tell-tale sign.
Too many waves in water standing still
Churns up resentment like a bitter pill.
0 Like | 0 comment