Round and round and round and round and round.
I’m on the tilt-a-whirl at the fair.
It’s a still summer night.
I throw my head back
I picture this image as I sit,
Waiting for you to call.
And the phone doesn’t ring
And doesn’t ring
And doesn’t ring.
I make my way out of bed
Not even fumbling for the light switch.
It’s late evening, and my palms are sweaty.
My head spins like I’ve been on a rollercoaster.
I look in the mirror
And see skin white as a sheet,
I fumble back to bed.
The phone still doesn’t ring.
14 minutes later,
a text: sorry, I’ve been out all day.
“Hey!! It’s okay haha, I’m sure you were busy. How was your day?”