Sunday, January 22, 2012

I thought I heard the phone ring..

A night of silence and coldness. I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling - white, spotless, untouched..

I longed for company, if not that, a voice to draw me from my lonely shell of thoughts. A soothing tone to take away my fear of darkness, a warm hug to protect me from evils lurking in the ungodly hours, a hand that would keep mine warm in the wintry mist. I yearned for moments of privacy, but ended up receiving lonesome nights. I prayed to Him and shared my fears, He looked into my eyes and quietly listened. I could not but have anyone around, even if I wanted, even if they wanted. Life behind the bars does not leave you with that choice. 

My eyes darted towards the lifeless piece of metal on the table. It lay as calm as ever. Not a flicker of light, not an ounce of movement. It lay motionless as a statue, deep in slumber. I lifted it with hopeful eyes. Was this longing mine alone? Would my eyes be greeted with words of love. Was a voice waiting to reach my ears and say 'I miss you, wish you were here...'


Alas! The longing was mine, alone.

Yet, why does it feel like I thought I heard the phone ring?




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