Callback

I have cold sweats at night

and I can’t complain

‘cause if I did it’d be in vain

all for myself, yet somehow making it seem entirely selfless.

Coming in disguise

the termites take and take some more

all for themselves

never making a scene

till the structure falls

left with nothing

still consuming out of an empty bag.

I wake up

a pool of my own

poor judgement calls

ringing in my ear

I missed the call

I tried to get back

the phone rang, the line seems busy

I’ll leave a name and a number

the beep sounds

I hang up immediately

truth is that I don’t know anymore.

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