casual vocal sabotage

Your voice is music

Ringing in my ears

I can still hear it

Long after one of us has left

A paradoxical rite

It gives me anguish

It gives me joy

On nights I'm feeling against the world

It's a twist of the knife

Ending in more tear stains,

As I drift to unresting sleep

On days I get to hear your voice

And things don't feel so stressed,

I laugh and try to memorise it

Soon it won't be quite a bipolar transaction

But a calm and smooth one

It'll be for 5-8 hours rather than weeks

Letters take a tedious amount of patience

Waiting and waiting and waiting and

.

.

.

Waiting

I cannot breathe

It is anticipation that strangles me

A quiet and swift trigger

Yet love is patient

And love is kind

This is true, poetry as my witness

Waiting to hear your Irish voice

When you get on the phone

Or when you get off that plane

Is what makes me restless and excited

Yet breathless and clawing for air

But it leaves me gasping nevertheless