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Your Last Call


and I thought it had something to do with you

I let it ring through

and clasped my own hands before listening

It wasn't.

But it could have been

It could have been them - the people you hid me from

telling me your goal was to be hidden forever

After all

Don't they always start with your last call?

When did you become such a writer?

Last I heard it was science, but then to you

everything is science isn't it?

Even your brain desperately wanting to control the world

And now I'm writing - for the first time in seven years

Because the last time you left like this, poetry is all I had

and I'd fill as many notebooks as I could to replace

The Comfortable Refuge of You

So escape the confines of your head because I can promise you

there's nothing good for you in there

Come back

So like you to run away

So like me to care

And here I am trying to say something profound about the world

when you were the one who taught me to be profound in my own way

and I had you to focus on when that fell apart


and those numbers make me forget

for just a second

that you're in a dark place you're posing off as light

always my best muse - well I'll never know if I was yours

because asking would ruin the mystery

of being

your first love and

Your Last Call

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