The phone in my hand
Seems so alien to me
With her name and its ringing
I let it go to the machine
After everything we went through
I don't understand why she called
All of the fights that we had been through
She told me she never wanted to speak to me at all
She told me she didn't love me
It didn't suprise me, I somewhat knew it all along
But when she told me that cold truth
I broke down, feeling something wrong
I thought I'd been the man she'd been dreaming of
I guess I was played to be the fool
I thought I'd given her the rarest kind of love
But all along she was the rarest kind of tool
Now she's calling me
Twice in the past fifteen
Should I answer?
Or should I just let it ring?
With everything she's done to me
Making me feel like she'd been the victim of my stupidity
She deserves to hear my answering machine
Feel how stupid she was for shattering me
She knew fully well the aftermath
Of every word of hate she bestowed upon my heart
So what does she expect after that?
For me to love her after she tore my soul apart?
I don't think I'm all that stupid afterall
She must now realize that
Feeling the emptiness from the ringing of the calls
Hollow breathes she takes as she fears I won't call back
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem