PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I got your number

Printed on the paper napkin

You wiped your mouth with

And as you slipped it in my hand

I felt the moisture from your lips

Embedded in the folds of the fabric

Do you expect me to call

Or will you even remember in the morning

Cause I know I won't forget

Holding the crumpled paper in my fingers

I want so bad to unfold the mess

And read the numbers in my head

But I can't decide how to procede

If I don't I'll never know

If I do you won't answer my call

You won't recognize the name on the i.d.

The title I gave it isn't me

You just sat on you bar stool

Playing your games for a fool like me

For a girl like you who sees straight through me

And as I unfold the mess I hold

It lies pressed infront of me

The haze is now gone of last night

With the hangover out of my brain

I have one more number to dial

Before I hear you voice

But I hang up the phone and the tone is dead

That's the way it should be

With my drunkeness far behind I clearly see

You never really meant anything to me

You were just a temptation set before me

And as I light my cigerette

Your number goes to ash as well

Cause your voice won't bring back the GIRL I need

SHE saw me for what I am sober

SHE saw me for what I am not drunk

SHE saw me for what was on the inside

So I hang up the phone before we speak

Dig HER number out of my head

After the seven numbers are dialed

I'll speak to HER, I'll plead to HER

Yeah SHE'S sho I need

You made me see that SHE'S all I need

We didn't even have to speak