Sunday 3/19/2006 10:40:00 PM

It rang as soon as I left the house. To replenish all I'd wasted.

It rang again four hours later. No message. I listened that time. Left the plug intact. As the phone blinked and begged me to live again.

And I don't even know who was there.

Watch the snow fall. Catch it on your tongue. And all at once it's melted. Somethings are not meant to be had.

I've made it better. I've made it worse. It's a mood more than a choice. I've spread. Had people inserted. But it's the colors that lead there we want, not the pot of gold.

We don't change. We are coerced.

Every message gone unanswered. Every Sunday left to learn.

How little. How small a pocket you could push me into.

I was yours once. It's true.

But now again, I am my own.

It was a few more hours later that I heard that sound agian. I didn't know who was calling.

I didn't really want to know.

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