Every morning, as soon as I open my eyes the gut-wrenching dread sets in.
I know it’s coming.
I have some time,
But the inevitable
The silence is broken by screeches.
Their sharp pitch cuts through my soul
I grasp my head, clutch at my hair.
My mind begins to spin.
I can’t comprehend this thing that haunts me
Is it in my head?
It’s very, very real.
But my young, millennial mind just can’t wrap itself around this thing.
It doesn’t have a screen, but it has buttons.
There’s nowhere to swipe to answer.
How do you even answer it??
Why are you here, Landline?
Why are you so loud?
I don’t understand why we still have you!
And why, oh sweet Jesus, WHY DO YOU RING AT 9:47 EVERY GOD DAMN MORNING?????
Here I sit, cosy with my tea;
Writing, contemplating, imagining…
Almost having forgotten the eternal shadow that lurks
And then YOU,
You obsolete piece of shit,
YOU ASSUALT ME WITH YOUR SCREAMS
Who is it?
Is it those lawyers looking for my ex stepmother?
Is it someone selling funeral cover?
Could it be…God?
I’ll never know because every time it happens I run, and cower…
Please stop, Landline