Haven

The beeps never stop.

An endless tone of hopelessness.

Helplessness.


 

Red splotches of fingerprints are smeared across the phone,

as it sits abandoned,

hanging off the hook by its fraying cord.


 

Curtains billow in the early morning breeze,

flapping gently as they wave their final goodbyes.


 

Shattered shards of window lay strewn across the floor,

glittering like diamonds in the sun’s golden glow of dawn.


 

With cold hands and eyes like a doll,

devoid of feeling or sight,

there is no movement indicative of life.

 

Maybe things could have ended differently,

if they only picked up the phone when it rang.