Poetry Day 6: Sensory Details

The peeling label scratches against my palm as call after call comes in.
With each ring, the vibrations run through my arm never allowing for stillness.
I crave the coldness this small device has when I first begin my shift.
Instead, I’m constantly greeted by the warmth caused by overuse.
I walk away from my station with my palm tingling reminding me I can never leave work behind.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s