Delete the thousand grumpy pictures, and the thousand happy ones
Forget the promises, forget the one
Take off your thick framed glasses, come undone
Blurred visions- Trepidations –Twisted tongue
Concentrate. Don’t extrapolate.
The phone call, the mail, the messages – all yet to be erased
The pink perfume bottle – yet to be emptied
And the strawberry scent- yet to be wiped off.
Stop psychoanalysing everything!
Missed call – now it flashes in red
Now the anxiety! Now the dreading! What if the phone screams again?
I can pretend that it never existed, to lessen the pain
I can pretend to be an amateur at this game.
Pretend not to care, pretend that it’ll be alright, and pretend to be stone cold
But still shiver every time it touches my soul.
I pick up the phone, 15 seconds – I regret, I cherish, I love.
Connecting the dots again- the hugs and kisses, the laughter, the cheery gullible fool and the guilt!
Delete again. But it all goes down the memory chute!
It isn’t Shift + Delete after all.
Intermittently deleting equals permanently saving which equals memories which equals emotions.
Just what I was afraid of!
I wish I could do Shift + Delete – to some instance at least
The murky details, the goodbyes or the guilt
But it all goes down the memory chute, again and again.
A hush falls,
The choice is still the same – To pretend at this very fine game.