The Phone
There is this phone
which won't ring
settled there in my
heart crease.
Stubbornly silent
opaque
un-ringing.
I move it
hoping it to motivate;
I ignore it
thinking to placate
that Yearning
Agony
of not knowing;
why don't you call?
The phone is broken
or is it my heart?
The silence is leaden
or is it my anger?
The way it ignores me
feels like shame,
for something I did wrong.
Me and the phone.
Another Boy Friend
Gone
another crimson crease in my
self-beating heart.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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