Half Empty Words

One day it’ll be 3 am and you’ll get this unexplainable rush of nostalgia

that will hit you like the rays of a thousand suns. 

You’ll rush to your bedside drawer or maybe the back lining of your cupboard, 

Wherever you keep memories stacked away now

And drown into pages that

Once spoke of a majestic love of a girl and a timid affair of a guy. 

You’ll pick up your phone and try to ring the same number

You had once written on the strings of your callous heart

But this time instead of her voice, 

All you hear is static and emptiness. 

This is when you know that sometimes 

All you get is a few moments of ancient history 

In the middle of the night to yourself 

And nobody else is in whose hands 

You can pour your half empty words into. 

Her number has long since changed. 

-Pratz 

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