“And no I won’t by the phone”
Having a relationship though voicemails and text messages is just not enough for me anymore.
These binary 0’s and 1’s can’t shield my heart from your blackened sun.
It can’t make love to me on winter nights,
giving me the security that this old love is going to be alright.
See right now I am caught between this finger friendly fantasy and
this cold call reality, this fading reality that has me thinking
that your LOL’s, OMG, BRB, LUV, and TTYL’s mean you still love me
I pray that my VM’s, SMS, MMS, and e-mail’s get through to you
because well, I am through with you.
I’s through playing lines that I don’t even believe anymore.
I have had your name tattooed on my lips for ten years now and
now I am just tired of moving both of them.
I am tired of these voices controlling me,
making me jump every time I hear that ring back.
Talking about “Baby come back” ,
While I am trying to get back a bit of my own sanity that you have tried to back hand out of me,
You, well you now have a wifey that you creamed in and planted your seeds in,
Something that you told me that you never believed in,
And your baby girl is your seed that I need some sort of understanding,
like how could you let this happen, now you don’t have no answers for me
but You have vowed to protect her from men that followed in your footsteps ,
you are trying to reverse the way you treated me
praying that you doesn’t see is never revealed the real you,
you hate yourself but most of all you hate me,
because I left you face your 18 year reality that
you are not the FEW, that was PROUD to call themselves men,
my friend are nothing more than a pathetic penis,
you’re not a DICK, because you could never live up to the name,
Your Mandingo claim is darkened by how you sold your soul for a sham salvation.
Your shattered dream was to see me carry your seed and
birth beautiful poetry but my pros was never good enough for you,
but that was the journey that will never be travelled
I am leaving you this last voicemail that you will delete before you hear my voice.
You have already stopped my life support that I have kept connected to my heart through this IPhone,
so disconnects are nothing new to me.
The unlimited access to this world wide hell has left me tangled up
in my own disconnects of regret
your outsourced customer service has left me confused
conveniently providing an language barrier that never left room for open lines of communication.
How can this exquisite love affair be downgraded to were spoken words,
are a thing of the past and we pass off our feelings through ring backs
followed by a recording of your baritone voice that tells me the same ol lines …
“This is Richard, leave your number and I’ll hit you back.” … I am still waiting you bastard.
You have been wasting my unlimited media and
I can’t seem to break this never ending 2 year contact that
I willingly signed on the dotted line.
I hate this phone and you because you both have broken this warrior that use to be me in two,
for I can no longer hold up these bundle packages that I kept building for you.
My notepad is maxed out on memory trying to get you to remember the stories I have a written for you
to really see me,
I have rained down finite verbs and future progressives so you can get a chance to feel me.
“So no I won’t sit by the phone, no use crying bout it, I have to do with it and no I won’t sit by the phone.”