you
fell asleep on the phone (again) I don't mind (yeah) goodnight (I love you too) this is a poem (iguess):
you are asleep on the phone.
i am thinking about all of the times i wished
i had the courage to call you, and the courage to talk with you, to hear you against my ear, the only way possible
at the moment.
through the speaker of this telephone, candy apple red.
i deserve this, as i was not specific in wishes, just how i am unspecific in my christmas lists, because i don't think my mother has ever gotten me the right thing
yet.
sometimes i feel like crying.
i will find all of my favourite songs by enya instead, and listen to them tonight, even if
i have to be up in a few hours for a history class.
("still. you. do not... answer.."
a girl is singing to me.
curiouser and curiouser, i would say, if it was.)
It isn't.
the peacock next to me isn't sleeping, it's reading this all over my shoulder. peacocks don't sleep. i do.
do i?
don't i.
i close my eyes for a second, pressing the speaker closer to my ear,
i will whisper to you the biggest secrets of mine, of all:
("i dream like an insomniac."
"i talk like a ventriloquist."
"my only friends are the crows, but i left them on the portables around the college."
and i don't even think this is a poem anymore.)
i don't even think i'm a human anymore.
that is
okay (BECAUSE):
dolls
are
beautiful
too.