cough

по "Кашлю" Димы Птицами
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someone didn’t understand a thing.
someone has missed a lot.
i’m another phone number in another slot.
i have an awful cough. i’m sick.
i’m sick. i’ve got an ache in my throat.

so many rain clouds above.
the sky had a hoarse voice, as it felt.
i am your missed call.
i am two messages left.

don’t mention.
i don’t even know what happiness costs.
it’s five a.m. in town with no any wind.
while the birds here strive not to feel so lost,
there’s the Arctic Ocean inside of me

begging for rain and I hear its scream.
while the sun that used to warm us warms no more –
the sun guesses we’ve had enough –
i am ten numbers on the screen.
i am your underhappiness, underlove.
take it from a shelf,
munch a little then throw up on the floor.
i watch the sundown as the sky cuts itself.

we are a couple of sentences on a paper sheet.
you say “bye”. just “bye”.
with my cough as a response.
a thud cough in the empty street.