Home Alone Forever

I sit at home, alone as usual. I pick up the phone, too bad it hasn't rang in years. Cabin fever becoming complex. and the fever is starting to boil, it's struck oil, this condominium deep-frying is trying to end me. I hear the phone, who would call? This apartment prison must have gotten me delusional. Because it's got me in it's grasp, and every breathe is a rasp of it, a drag off a solitary cigarette, alone like me. But there it was again, this time a knock, it feels like shell shock against the usual silence. Therapy won't help me after this. I yelp at the tapping at my window. The fax machine spits out "We Miss You"s, The mailbox is overjoyed as it overflows with "We Love You"s The telephone has rung off the hook, flown the nest and is on it's own, but far from alone. It mimics the voices it's been too long to be able to place. And I waste no time in going to my door. Chains that once held the dead bolt still, now look deathly ill, they wither and die right before my eyes, and I realize, I was the one that decided to lock the door and shut them out.