Tonight

Tonight we will sit by the phone and wait for the call that signals the end. And as the night trickles on we’ll scream at the stars and cry at the moon but it will do us no good because that’s how it is.
Tonight we will sit by the phone and wait for the call that signals the breath and comes at the last. And we’ll hope it goes slow or we’ll hope it goes fast. And we’ll want them to hold on for only a while, or we’ll let them go with a touch and a smile because that’s how it is.
Tonight we will sit by the phone and wait for the call that signals the rage as the sun fades to dusk and the horizon takes the last light from us. And we’ll talk to the clouds that cover the moon, and we’ll cry that everything ends so soon and nothing will change because that’s how it is.
Tonight we will sit by the phone and wait for the call that signals the beat that is beating no more. And we’ll feel that it’s ending, and we’ll feel our bones shake, and we’ll whisper in moonlight as we feel our hearts break because that’s how it is.
Tonight we will sit by the phone and wait for the call that signals the flood that comes with a halt and a slowing of blood. And we’ll hold our hands tight and think of the past and all of our memories preserved behind glass, and so they’ll remain because that’s how it is.
Tonight we will sit by the phone and wait for the call that signals what’s done and can be no more, and we’ll say our goodbyes as the sun comes to light because that’s how it is, and that is alright.


R.I.P