Calls to the Past

The breakdown of a fortress.

it comes down slow.

the wall I put up

was bull dozed by

illusions of the past

Trembling hands

I dialed

phone buzzed

buzzed

buzzed

then went to voicemail

I sat

hands shaking

I murdered self respect

giving into

up ahead

dead ends.

I sinned once more

it happened again,

I watched my hand grab

the gun and put it

up to my head.

Phone buzzed

buzzed

buzzed

then went to voicemail.

gun shot ammunition

of silence.

what I hoped for and

was afraid of.

I puked twice, once for

each call.

still had the sick feeling.

I turned on Miles making smiles

still had the sick feeling.

I turned on porn

jacked off

still had the sick feeling.

I fell asleep

with trembling hands

and a fortress under construction

bound to break down again