UNSAID UNHEARD

she dialled, with frozen fingers

a number that has been out of service for months now

continued to be called, because the operator's pre-recorded message has become comforting to the caller who lives alone and hasn't touched themselves in years

she murmers with cold breath

i'll keep to myself the words i never told you, the words that still hurt.

are you listening?

how can you listen?

i can't even hear my voice talk some empty words.

i called you again, its 3 am but your voice is night time silence.

like the asmr whisper compilations a ritual of kindness the sweet nothingness of someone's bedroom voice without all the winking or the body parts 

this is just a talk without the walk, the legless, spineless trembling trial of the innocence and perversion contradiction every time i call you.

and thats almost more than what you whisper when i have just hung up, wishing for a technical malfunction or a misclick so that i could hear

i have never heard you say it, but i am listening the phone is under my pillow, 

i have slept on it and woken up with two missed calls and wondered if i had  taken them what would you be saying.