The phone rings,
Ringing and echoing in my ears,
Like my pounding heartbeat.
She cuts the call,
Oh! How deep it cuts,
That “busy” tone.
I sit in silence,
It drowns out all sounds,
And my ears start ringing.
She cuts my call again,
Incisive with surgical precision,
My heart pounds one last time.
Coldness settles,
As the anger heats up,
And I smoke.
The burning cigarette,
Calming my quivering heart,
I go numb.
Heaviness settles in,
I surrender to the darkness,
My personal prison.
My ears start ringing again,
Cutting through the silence,
I answer the phone.
Light floods through,
And I fly through the bars.
It’s her!
-Aviv Nair
14/5/2009
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I loved this one. Something I can relate to... plus, I don't like rhyming much...
ReplyDeleteYour emotions have been captured well; so is the imagery. This reads like a poetic script of scene to be picturised in a movie.