Your voice slurs through the speaker
My phone wants my thumb to turn red and white
Pressing hard and cutting you off like blood to my brain
Maybe then I’ll see sense
Your face fades to a memory of smiles and broken embraces
You linger behind my eyes like the ghosts of light
And your image stays when they open
Seeing you now is more of a chore than before
Your awkward smile and mumbled greeting
And my back to the world as I reply because every fibre is telling me
No
I won’t burn the photographs
I don’t want the good times erased to be taken by the bad.
Your constant reminder of my failure
The wrong words or the bad decisions.
I would never have imagined this a year ago.
A short time to change my reality.
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