The Call #2

A dozen empty beer bottles lay on the floor, cluttered apartment covered in discarded clothes. On the couch I lay, mind adrift while R&B music plays. My past is on replay depicted on a television screen which besides reflecting my reflection isn’t broadcasting anything.
Phone rings I see a name I often distance myself from and start to screw my face with a rhetorical question to ask why now and why me. Coherent enough to know I shouldn’t say a word in such an inebriated state, but I reach for the phone anyway….

The Poet Q

Advertisements

One thought on “The Call #2

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s