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It's Because I Loved You (I Can't Stand To Hear Your Voice)

by J. P. Davies

Being aloft could be enough
to keep sane the mind,
but bottoms are falling
as you float away.

Monologues, of defiance,
come quickly to publicity.
Answering machines give
the semblance of conversation.

Vocally brimmed over,
still puddles across the floor,
stretch molecules upon surface
ready to be cleansed.

Raising tremulous exhalations
towards ever-deaf ears.
Crushed up like a paper cup
and tossed to the breeze.

Floating spirals,
sliding story to story,
and falling beyond.

If in haste to hate,
forget conjuring words
who resurrect broken memories
that lie in synapses
waiting to strike out.

They’re existing solely
for times in between smiles.
Remembrances of romances
and reasons for tears.

While floating farther from me,
every drop of explanation
will fall useless
to steam on the ground.

I’ll linger, for a time,
in vapors of clarity,
condensing the answers
you leave behind.


05/22/2004

Author's Note: I heard her voice on my answering machine, and it wasn't even a message for me. This is what it sparked. I want my own life, and every time she re-enters it I want to scream.

Posted on 05/22/2004
Copyright © 2024 J. P. Davies

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Maureen Glaude on 05/22/04 at 03:30 PM

these machines can haunt and hold us in the past. In even worse scenarios, after a death, the first time you hear their voice on the answering machine really shakes you up. Well done.

Posted by Michele Schottelkorb on 05/22/04 at 06:34 PM

painful emotion wreaked beautiful havoc here... brilliant read... blessings...

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