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The Phone Call

I’m sitting all alone
On my couch, right beside the phone
I look at it hoping it’d be dead
So that I'll have a slight chance of getting him out of my head
But my thoughts are disturbed by the phone’s ring
I just don't want to pick it up, I know its him
I just wish he'd go away
But no, he is still there and has something to say
Shh . . . don't try to speak
I am not dead yet, just a little weak
His words pierce through my heart
My soul is shattered and thrown apart
His words are stronger than the sharpest sword
Even though he's just an old skeleton in the cupboard
Anger is flowing through my blood stream
I feel a desperate need to scream
But on the other line he stands cool and calm
And says, “I know you didn't mean to cause me harm
But you scared me when last night you tried to kill
Anyway my mind didn't change and I admire you still”
I cry, why do you stalk me?
Can't you just get out of my life and let me be free?
He is still not serious
“I can't even though I try
I can't I don't know why”
His voice seems to get nearer
His words appear to get more dearer
A hand on my shoulder sends down a cold chill
His face is worn out but he looks thrilled
He smiles and in his hand he holds a knife
Let’s find out whether there's an afterlife
No, its not happening, I let out a scream
And stumble down the bed, it was just a dream

So then I sit on my couch all alone
And glance once more at the phone
Not again but I hear the phone ring
Hell! oh no!! it’s him!!!

 

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