7 am,
the garbage truck beeps as it backs up
and I start my day thinking about what I've thrown away.
Could I push rewind?
The credits traverse signifying the end but I missed the best part.
Could we please go back to start?

11 am,
by now you would think that I would be up
but my bedsheets shade the heat of choices I've made.
And what did I find?
I never thought I could want someone so much
'cause now you're not here and I'm knee deep in
that old fear.

12 pm,
and my dusty telephone rings.
Heavy head up from my pillow, who could it be?
I hope it's you.