Your Last Call

732
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
732
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