|picture source: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/375909900124943571/|
It’s the ring of the telephone,
hollow, foreboding in a nuance
the rising hairs on the back of your neck
freeze time in the most unpleasant way.
To hear the hellish message
a distorted line twists in your gut,
as the darkness reaches right into you,
through your skin, right into your heart.