Sunday, October 16, 2005

No Title (Press)

Sweaty, nervous hands clench
a black, slippery phone as I
ring... ring... ring...
My insides knot
I bite my lip-
What if you don't want to talk?
What if I embarass myself?
Whatif no one'shome?
I chew my nails and
listen to it ring,
one... two... three...
Finally, a click-
you pick up.
Timidly, I ask a question,
gaily* you reply.
My terror slowly melts away,
I start to breathe a little.
I laugh and joke and
tease and play,
then finally, I say,
Goodnight. I'll call again tomorrow.

*For all of you immature people, gay can also mean HAPPY.
PLEASE feel free to say ANYTHING (within reason) about my poem. I would love to hear it!


esperanza said...

I like the black sweaty phone thing, but I think "gayly" is actually spelled "gaily." Like "daily" I guess. Please press my poem!

Hilachita said...

I like how you talk about all the questions running through your mind as you listen to the ring - I totally relate (even if I'm not calling a boy.. haha... I'm just lame i guess lol)

Anonymous said...

i think that you need to be more specific as to what you are talking about. "is pete there" and his brother saying "yeah, let me get him" are hardly cause for this much excitement. maybe if you were a tad more spcific...

pinkroses said...

Actually, I believe that the topic is really clear. It's a girl, calling a boy who she likes, and she's really nervous. For most girls, its a HUGE deal calling a guy they like.. so ya. Thanks esperanza for the spelling change.