Uninspired Writer

Falling into the Cement Sky

i cut my hair the day before
so it wouldn't blow in my face

as i stand on the ledge of the fifty-fourth floor
and gather my thoughts on my perilous case

the stone sky, sprinkled with faces that never cared
the cloudless heavens of cement and cigarette butts

one last song plays on my spotify playlist, and i watch as my phone runs out of batteries
it won't be long until the sun sighs in the distance and dips below the sycamore trees

breathe in, breathe out
step forward, step back

and i jump, only to be caught by my apple watch, which always turns on when i shake

your faces, smile at me. i'm not worthy of this.

i never even said goodbye in person.

shit.

in my gray(grey?) bag i always bring around, i pull out my portable charger
spend a minute thinking. become someone larger.

"..."

"hello?"

"yeah, sorry if i'm calling at a weird time. how are you?"

"i'm doing well too."

"no, i'm a few minutes from home."

"i'll make it back soon, i promise"

"hey, there's a song i think we should learn"