(no subject)

[b_ridget]

"blah blah blah blah blah"
wakes me up from an evening nap.
I blindly reach my hand over my head,
searching for my phone with my hand.
half open one eye,
respond, and it goes off again.

i have thoughts of throwing it across the room,
but the antenna is broken,
i don't want to inflict more damage.
and sleeping feels so good right now.

if cell phones could speak,
i'd be told.
its heard all my secrets,
all the gossip.
everything that surrounds my life.

if my cell phone could speak,
his name would be Harry
and he would have an Australian accent
and would cook me dinner...
wait! or is that the take home chef?
thoughts among dreaming get distorted sometimes.

But back to Harry.
Harry wouldn't cook me dinner,
but he would still have the accent
and would tell me to shut the fuck up
and stop worrying so much.

He'd also say:
Who cares if you're not ready to grow up?
Who cares if you're not as independent and
strong as everyone presumes you are?
Who cares that you're friendships are falling
apart in front of your eyes, but you're so
burnt out, you don't have the energy to save them?
Who cares that you'll spend Christmas alone again,
no one to kiss under the mistletoe, no one
to nestle with?
Who cares about anything anymore?

And I'd respond:
I do.

And Harry would strike back:
pussy.

Eh, life sometimes is too much to handle.

Even my dreams.