No Call

No Call. by Alexander Fruchter

I feel a storm on my back chasing me Down endless flights of stairs adjacent To quiet thunder I hear your name through that one dark cloud I hear you Your voice pushes me to do situps It threatens me with thoughts of flight I am doing more situps, can't you see? I feel a storm grabbing at my legs Moving them for me Making me run Making me leave, making me who I am today A runner I've out run two pair of Nikes, running over glass Slipping on the black asphalt made of sweat and doubt and amazement Amazed that I am here, amazed that I have not drowned the way you wanted me to You wanted me to give up on you, to make it easier for you to give up on me And I don't feel like doing situps anymore I get high and I get hungry and I eat And I don't want to run for you either I thought about leaving a message for you I pondered calling you when I knew you would be asleep and leaving A sweet message wishing you good night And I saw your face as you heard it and smiled, and then told all your friends about how sweet I was. Or maybe about how you wished I wouldn't call because it made you feel guilty to be sleeping with someone else, while I am calling your cell phone just to say nighty-night. But I decided not to call because I didn't want to risk you picking up and forcing me to suffer through another empty conversation about sororities and "Real World" episodes And then being mad at myself for calling like I always am And the two weeks it will take me to forgive and convince myself that it won't happen again That it is over.

The Boat by Erin Kelso

Washington Coast Erin Kelso