Dead Ringer

Dead Ringer

I once tried to not sit by the phone waiting for you to call

that same blue night

I was strangled by a chord-less phone

and ambushed by text messages

each a tiny needle wheedling into fingers

I once tried to not cry when I saw you walking to class

that same pink day

I was ambushed by compliments

none of them for me

each a tiny needle wheedling into fingers

I once tried to dial without staring at the lights of my cell

and feeling like a sucker

for being convinced they meant anything real.