The Phone

The phone rings empty into the night. Filling a void that brings strange comfort to thoose around. Rage eats away untill it bores a hole straight through are hearts. Whiskey cauterizes the wound. Alone with fools we gather. The bitter ones taking to there barstools. the weak look to punish thoose happy bastards. Who dare to feel anything in the place of emptyness. She left so many years befor. At least her mortal soul did. I rememeber when it was when I still dared to dream. Long befor reallity was a friend. Lovers lie. Motions keep us living. She spoke but the words were empty as her heart. So as strangers we parted just as we met. With a bitter taste I never did reply. The phone rang it's last time. I herd it echo farewell down the hall. I had to go so I never unlocked the door. i just left my emotions hanging like some forgotten coat pushed back in the closet. Its been almost a year since that phone filled the emptyness of my soul. If only I had answered.