it shouldn't take much to tell you how I have been;
just a quick "hello" or a quick
"I love you"
before I get off the phone.
it shouldn't have to take 15 minutes to say goodbye as
you search for a reason
to keep me on the
phone.
this is too much,
and when you sit there breathing on the other end
I am forced to ask
"HELLO, ARE YOU THERE?"
why must you attack me for wanting to go?
what am I doing that is so wrong?
this cell phone has become a burden;
it has become a chain to your whims.
and even now
as I am trying to write
you are calling me,
wanting to know what I am doing
or who I am with.
tonight I am with myself,
and as mysterious as this must sound
I enjoy being without all of this technology.
this typewriter is silent to the touch:
no mechanical hum or electricity.
this room is open to the desert
with no TV or computer.
I like sitting here sometimes,
without the drone of the new world.
and btw, if I were with another girl,
my phone would have surely been
off.