Midnight rings

You called me at four in the morning.
I picked up seeking the words that every heartbroken soul has pictured echoing in their ears for the past few years.
And there it began. Your word vomit of everything I was unprepared to hear.
I thought I’d be super cool
Time had passed and I wouldn’t allow myself to play the fool.

You called me at four in the morning.
Still groggy from lack of sleep, I heard you ramble about the pain you’d caused.
Like I hadn’t lived through it at all.
It was funny really, the way apologies and promises fell off your chapped lips.
As though all the lies you spoke in the past were forced upon your righteous heart.
Pictures and memories of her and you, gave rise to fits of anger and agitation and frustration and there I lay completely broken yet your pity party continued it’s path into oblivion.

You called me at four in the morning.
And once again I found myself questioning how I felt about you.
A part of me rejoiced, maybe, just maybe I could feel the warmth of your skin against me again.
Another part of me died as I realized that that’s perhaps your only motivation.

You called me at four that morning.
My world spun because ignoring your call was not even an option.
Why? Why wasn’t it an option? If you could treat me like one then why couldn’t I bring myself to do the same.
The truth dawns while I try to conceal my yawn. You hold a place I can’t seem to replace.

You called me at four in the damn morning.
And I realized that some things, just aren’t that easy to get over;
I twirled and swirled as the feelings I once buried were nearing the surface.
I began counting the flowers and making a card, plucking the stars and scaling the towers
I smiled to myself because for once I thought you could be truly mine. After all, you felt the same right?
I called you the next day at four in the morning, and you told me to walk away.

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