Ten Calls

We lie on pinecones and hold our breaths. The room is cold. We smile less. Innocence leaves as we play with thorns and count holes in our hearts. 

People reach in to poke our wounds. Panic begins. Something’s wrong on this sunny day. Ten phone calls, and we realize another person abandoned us.

Our fathers knock on our doors. They’ve come to fix us. We need a time machine. Our umbilical cords were cut so we’d win. But society’s a casino. We lose more than we give. 

Strangers sit beside us to say it gets better. A man close to death struggles to clap along. We see our futures. We’re pretenders. 

Love’s meaningful when there’s an abundance of joy. Sadness replaces flowers, our mothers’ love, a kiss, validation from a person who doesn’t know us. 

The lights dim. Our eyes close. There are still more days left. We pull ourselves out and are pushed back in. Something’s wrong on this dreary day. Ten missed calls till they realize we’re gone.