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  • I'm calling you because
    I could really use a friend.
    (Yet I don't call, and
    we don't speak.)
    Was my invitation lost in the mail?
    Is this an intentional bruising
    with silence?

    This - not the first time -
    caught in a tangle of loss and longing;
    trapped in the hollows where
    shadows surround me.
    I crumble under the weight of
    cancellations, and
    one sad history that
    was meant for two parts.
    I know more people, yet
    have less people to call
    when I'm dangerously empty.

    This opening heart wants
    a change of season and
    the saddest thing
    I can say right now is
    not something,
    but nothing.
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