Unread calls.

Screen lights up on the diner booth table

Buzzing like a wire on a high-voltage cable

Five missed calls before the sun comes up

Hands shaking around a warm coffee cup

Text message: "Please, I can't breathe without you"

Two minutes later: "How could you do this,

who's with you?" The mask slips completely off your face When you

realize you can't control the space

Fourteen unread calls in a row

Watching the red light flicker and glow

You’re not crying cause you’re missing my touch

You’re just furious you lost your clutch

Voicemail playing on a speaker low

Telling me there's nowhere I can go

"You owe me everything,

you owe me your life" Cutting through the silence like a kitchen

knife

Fourteen unread calls in a row

Watching the red light flicker and glow

You’re not crying cause you’re missing my touch

You’re just furious you lost your clutch

Power down, hold the button tight

Screen goes black in the morning light

No more calls

No more you