He called me.
Nothing but a picture and a ringtone
that brought back all the reasons
I kept the fractured screen.
I didn’t answer,
Of course. You think I am pathetic.
No strength of character
or I would have started with the list
of all the things he’d done to break me.
I left it at home.
It’s on my nightstand,
beside the water bottle
with stale liquid rusting the necklace
he gave me for my birthday
ten years ago.
I went walking on the melted glass
they call a beachfront.
The wind had started to howl
his name. The gulls were picking at rubbish
on the shoreline. I waited for the rain.
But it never came.
I threw my phone in the ocean
today. The cracking screen
caught the sunlight as it floated away.
It was ringing again.