'cos stuff happens and I write about it
For the first time in my life
I have a dead person’s number on my phone.
A dead girl.
She was nearly thirty but always seemed
A similar age to me
So in the way I’ve never got used
To calling a female my age a woman,
I think of her as a girl still. Thought.
A dead girl now.
And maybe it’s not sunk in,
But the main thing I’m wondering is …
What do I do with her number?
Delete it?
Consign those digits to cyber purgatory,
But at least not unhealthily cling
To a thing that no longer has a use?
Or keep it and know
That every now and then
I’ll stumble across it and smile sadly
Feeling badly while I’m humbled by mortality
Of the 29-year-old girl who lost it all.
Or keep it
For a period of time long enough
But not too long,
A time that feels just right
And bury my phone in the hard earth
Which would be inconvenient
As her number’s saved on my simcard
So I’d have a dearth of numbers for a bit
But this, it feels appropriate,
Putting this last piece of her I have,
These numbers that’ll keep reminding me
Of the fleeting spark of her,
To sleep in the ground with her.
I’ve got a dead girl’s number in my phone
And you’d not be alone in thinking
That’s a little bit creepy
And if I think about it
It’s not the most normal thing to be thinking about
But it’s either obsess, shout, or get weepy
Over this former friend of mine
Who I just found out they found her body,
Found it. Just lying around.
What used to be her body,
‘Cos it’s empty now
And it strikes me as strange how
All her life all she thought of as her
Was that flesh she could see in the mirror
And the flesh is still there, but she’s not.
So I conclude that our flesh is just clothing
And hers was torn off by the world
It buried a hole into her
And under that only her bare-naked soul
Which has gone … somewhere.
So I send one last text out into the ether
Hoping in the place that suicides go
They have good reception there.
Yeah, I’ve got a dead girl’s number of my phone
That I think I’m the only one texting
And I’m not gonna tell you what I sent
But I promise that if she gets back to me
From wherever she went
And I hope it’s someplace better than here
I’ll let you know how she’s doing.
I have a dead person’s number on my phone.
A dead girl.
She was nearly thirty but always seemed
A similar age to me
So in the way I’ve never got used
To calling a female my age a woman,
I think of her as a girl still. Thought.
A dead girl now.
And maybe it’s not sunk in,
But the main thing I’m wondering is …
What do I do with her number?
Delete it?
Consign those digits to cyber purgatory,
But at least not unhealthily cling
To a thing that no longer has a use?
Or keep it and know
That every now and then
I’ll stumble across it and smile sadly
Feeling badly while I’m humbled by mortality
Of the 29-year-old girl who lost it all.
Or keep it
For a period of time long enough
But not too long,
A time that feels just right
And bury my phone in the hard earth
Which would be inconvenient
As her number’s saved on my simcard
So I’d have a dearth of numbers for a bit
But this, it feels appropriate,
Putting this last piece of her I have,
These numbers that’ll keep reminding me
Of the fleeting spark of her,
To sleep in the ground with her.
I’ve got a dead girl’s number in my phone
And you’d not be alone in thinking
That’s a little bit creepy
And if I think about it
It’s not the most normal thing to be thinking about
But it’s either obsess, shout, or get weepy
Over this former friend of mine
Who I just found out they found her body,
Found it. Just lying around.
What used to be her body,
‘Cos it’s empty now
And it strikes me as strange how
All her life all she thought of as her
Was that flesh she could see in the mirror
And the flesh is still there, but she’s not.
So I conclude that our flesh is just clothing
And hers was torn off by the world
It buried a hole into her
And under that only her bare-naked soul
Which has gone … somewhere.
So I send one last text out into the ether
Hoping in the place that suicides go
They have good reception there.
Yeah, I’ve got a dead girl’s number of my phone
That I think I’m the only one texting
And I’m not gonna tell you what I sent
But I promise that if she gets back to me
From wherever she went
And I hope it’s someplace better than here
I’ll let you know how she’s doing.