she called me again today

i watched her name on my phone and resisted the urge to hit answer

it seemed to ring longer than normal before going to voicemail

as if the phone itself was as desperate as me to hear her voice again

but neither of us got what we didn’t really want

instead i sat and stared directly into the sun until all i could see was spots and my head flared with pain

as if i could burn her from my brain

destroy whatever brain cell still craves her, whatever dopamine receptor used her as a substitute, an addict needing just one more fix

i didn’t feel proud of myself

there was no sense of satisfaction for standing my ground

just that hollow feeling of need

i lost a friend this week and she would have understood or told me to just move on, or been cold and unfeeling about it all when she discovered the friend was another woman

but neither of the hers i lost have any real power over me, i have rescinded that right, no petty jealousy or angry words can draw blood from this dessicated heart

but what if it is finally so broken that love will never plant it’s deceitful seed again on salted soil

what if beauty has become something of an illusion and my eyes still sore from the sun’s halo imprinted on my cornea can only see past it to the skeleton within

fearing the hidden motivations of not right now and never again

she didn’t leave a message

thank goddess

i would have listened to it and probably found myself debating placing a call that would end up starting a one way trip into a hell of my own design

i’m so weak and my resolve is like an eggshell soaked in vinegar, porous and frail

but i didn’t answer the phone today and that is one more step towards sobreity

eleven more judging by the pamphlets that litter my brain

they should pin a medal directly into the skin of chest so the bead of blood can soak through this yoshi shirt like a badge of shame

i wonder what i will lose tomorrow to continue this cyclical ever winding spiral

hopefully anxiety will be the next to go

but the idea of waking without it fills me with dread

some people are adrenaline junkies

me

i prefer armageddon

typically cyclical series of ever escalating blues