dissonance by Melis Gordem

a sigh leaves my lips
as i ponder and decide to wander
with a ballpoint pen.
clicking its top,
i draw out a piece of paper,
as if removing a sword from its sheath,
and i smooth it down on my desk.
transcribing tedious thoughts,
my tool travels across the page:
it’s sharp when striking down k’s and z’s
and dull when rounding out b’s and p’s.
flipping the page,
its edge ricocheting off the wooden desk,
my grasp on the pen tightens
and its ink bursts blue blood onto my palms.
licking my lips, emotions overtaking my eyes,
alliteration of miserable memories scattered in lines,
slant rhymes of the same shattered experiences,
i whisper pain, agony, angst in my quatrains.
the cursive loses cohesiveness—
the phone rings.
She’s calling.
“enough,” she hisses.
i hang up and slam my phone onto the desk,
causing my pen to fly as if it were drifting
in space along with the debris of my drafts
and it rolls.
the ink stains the floor.
a whimper escapes from my lips,
tears drip onto the blank sheet of paper

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