calling collect

late night phone calls

drag me out of a mix

of dreams and nightmares

spliced together

and down to the kitchen

empty fridge, virgin stove

trademarks of a house

left to grow old alone

not all ghosts

live in decrepit houses on paper streets

some never manage

to break free

of shiny pots and pans

in a dime-a-dozen townhouse

and on the phone

i know it’s you

the same way i know

i’ll never break free

of this fleshy cocoon

your voice is like

’50s doo-wop, bubblegum pop

playing the receiver

like a car stereo

nowadays it’s wasted

a moth searching for flames

always singing the blues

searching for the crooner in you

but i remember before

back when the future held

butterfly dreams

that summer spent

in a small town years ago

before we started to fade

blur around the edges

sell our souls like stocks

to pay for new cars

fancy clothes, houses, jobs with

healthcare and life insurance and dental

back when we didn't

stare into mirrors

jab our flesh

pinch our skin

find pain in the everyday

to prove that we’re alive

i drove you around

our sunshine cookie-cutter town

while you read and sang along

to whatever shit was on the radio

your mind somewhere between

Never-land and Oz

and I wanted to go

to measure my life in

airplane tickets and worn roads

leave a trail around

volcanoes and mountains and

i always imagined you’d be

next to me

book in hand, singing a song

my encyclopedia and my radio

but you gave up lost boys for

Harvard grads

and i swapped ticket stubs for

college apps

and i traded my wanderlust for

what they call healthy ambition

we didn't know what lay in store

back when

we howled at the moon

and challenged the stars

thinking we had the power to

rearrange the constellations

now

when i see them

through empty windows of an empty house

i draw the curtains

shut out the mocking light

starcrossed lovers we may not be

but

criss-crossed star-bent destinies

are something i’m starting to

believe in

we used to scream

standing in cars our

voice boxes tripped up

on the ecstasy

that came from being free

now we only find it

in pills and packets

and our screams

have us down on all fours

they come from

the cracks in our souls

breaks in our bones

and they come like

harsh winds

battering against our ribcage

eroding us away

we may contain them

but they ruin us

you used to call me

between laughs and kisses

the beats of a song

Baby, Lover, Friend

now

you only call me collect