Cleaning out,
too many messages,
and texts,
that little disc,
it holds a bit,
and there she is,
please pick me up,
meaning the station,
and bags of things.
It never really bothered me,
I would have taken on
a pyramid or two,
and now,
the number stares,
into my grieving eyes,
I memorised it once,
and it has never left my heart.
I'm tempted so to ring,
what if she said "HELLO",
just once,
I'd be the one to hide,
perhaps beneath the skirt of her,
the one who saved my bloody skin,
my mind,
and, most importantly,
my heart,
she knows the total score,
and I,
all I can say is
I adore, yes, I adore.