I dropped my phone into the loo.
Beyond repair, all was lost.
Three years of photos, texts and memories;
the current latest message, pic and tune
sent from an ex in anger
on what I guess was one bad day.
Not even drunk, since I’m not drinking
because of issues with my heart,
from stress and worry for a year,
it’s even more annoying
to lose my phone, and lose my shit
as down the bowl it went.
And now to have to read
and see and hear and bear
the feelings, meanings, words and thoughts
of someone whom I used to love
but now will never have another message from.
I’d rather he went down a pipe of shit
than having to remind myself
of all the crap I left behind,
that now float back despite the flush
of therapy and work and rage.
My own annoying stupid fault
makes everything that bit worse.
But app by app and step by step
I breathe, download, and try again.