My Conscience

"If you could hear my thoughts"

Drifting to sleep on a day filled with annoyance and listless eyelash batting never to be noticed, or reciprocated

 

Awaiting

an angry phone call from someone long gone but still present

 

Aluminum mindlessness, clanking on the wrists of a girl i can't picture, but I remember that noise, clanking down the hall at all hours

 

And I sit here, thinking of all this, drawing pictures in a book that no one will look at

 

Wondering if this would make sense to anyone else

 

but, does it matter really? I write what flows from my hand to the paper or my hands to the keys

thoughts free, unhinged inside, like curtains billowing with the wind

 

Stop, willingness to proceed lessens as a sharp pain flexes through my heart

 

The phone rings with an angry voice on  the other end. The call I've been expecting, I better take this.