The line rings

and rings

and rings.

"911 what's your emergency?"

I know,

She knows,

We know.

I struggle to form cohesive words,

I'm crying, panicking, dying

On the inside and out.

I touch her cold face,

Trying to fill the empty space,

Attempting to keep the CPR pace.

Our hearts are stopped,

Our lines went flat.

The salt of my tears touched my tastebuds,

My body frozen with fear,

My heart shattered beyond repair.

I write on the lines of my journal writing letters

to her,

Hoping to bring her back through words.

I write,

And write,

And write.

And the lines blur,

And blur,

And blur,

Until there is only black.

Life loses the color you brought,

Something which can never be bought.

I miss your warm hug,

Why did you have to take the drug,

There are six feet dug,

For both of us.

You moved past the line of Heaven and Earth,

I’m still below the line.

Can we meet on the line?

I am looked at and observed,

In a tiny cage,

I am perched upon a,

Fake,

Wood branch.

My wings clipped so I can't,

Fly away,

I try,

And try,

And try,

And fall every time.

The things that should take me away

Are not able to.

So I stay perched upon a,

Fake,

Wood branch.