Twitch

Hand-less clock in my living room,
truncated,
amputated,
fresh batteries for noise.

Rhythm,
other than breathing,
heart beat,
creaking joints.

Wind blows,
grass grows,
water flows,
so it goes.



I'm trying to come up with a tactful way to ask her if she can prevent whichever of her friends or family members or whoever from texting snarky post break-up song lyrics to my work phone [a trend that started roughly 30 hours after she left me, with recurrences about once every three or four days since]. 

Seriously people, if you want to salt my wounds use my personal phone. 

[And these are the folks who think I'm trash.]


Probably best if I just drop it.  More than enough real life to worry about right now, without getting bogged down in bullshit.

Maybe I can get my boss to issue me a new phone.