i am walking a bridge made of guitar
strings made of guts. over a gorge.
back in my hotel room there are lamps
in the bathtub. the place is ransacked and
i think it was me. sleep
i need sleep. no blankets no sheets just a
mattress on the ground. blood rushes
from a slit down my forearm. i am weak
no words to speak no tears upon my
cheek. nobody around. i pick up the old
phone wrap the cord around my arm
restless to remember your number. i call you.
the tone of each ring holds a promise.
#katyamills
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