The girl paces her bedroom. The sunlight from the picture window hits her bed, and the light is soft and hazy. She is daydreaming, and she wishes somebody would call her. That’s the idea, call him now, perhaps he’s there..no, well, he’s always so selfish, why bother? What a nice boy to talk to I always get a kick out of that voice that manner you know he’s always been after you, don’t you? Not the way he’s ben so distant, always in such a hurry to go. No, the bedroom is pink like bubblegum, look at the ceiling, look at the window, the larkspur, the mocking bird, the jay, the bluejay, the pine, cone firs, the brisling branches meeting her eye, she will spy-the phone is waiting, expect nothing, not the voice, not that manner, he will not be there, don’t expect a thing, but- is, a jolt- that voice, that manner, you know he’s always been after you, hasn’t he? He’s on the other line.
And he says hello.
Me: I like you
Him: I know
Me: you bastard!
M: you know I love you
H: *stares awkwardly, unsure of what to make of my statement*
M: I do.
H: I know
M: so, why haven’t you said hi lately?
H: they took away my phone, and, as you know, I have a bit of short-term memory loss
M: no you don’t, you’re just lazy dear
H: the two go hand in hand actually.
M: mm hmm. So are you going to call me?
M: I hate you
H: no you don’t
M: no, you’re right, I don’t.
M: I really do love you
H: so you say
M: You’re talking, you’re always talking. Why do we always have to talk?
H: because we enjoy having meaningful conversations and discussing prevalent topics in our current society.
M: stop using such big words, they don’t fit you.
H: yes, they do
M: no they don’t.
H: so anyway, how is your life going?
M: I don’t know, it’s been hectic, and I mostly need some sleep. I slept twelve hours yesterday, it was epic.
H: *laughs* you silly girl, you.
M: (trying to ask questions) and how is your life dear?
H: Well, my family is being stupid, and I hate them. I also have to finish this project for science later. I have to go in like two minutes.
H: because I’m going to get picked up really soon.
M: (sadly) okay, fine. Well, I’l miss you…
H: I’ll miss you too.
M: Goodbye dear.
Copyright 2014 Golden Star Poetry