don't call me

Don't call me oozing doom

from your musky little room,

floating in a languid sea
of mucous and anxiety;

with persuasion's barrel

leveled squarely at your brow

don't call me like you done before,

don't call me that way now.

When sirens are wailing 
of low pressure systems staring down 
your hastily assembled
bag of supplies
and you're feeling like less than a
speck of dust in some
handsome stranger's eyes,
maybe then you will know why
you should not call.

After each and every venue

has been brazenly detoured,

till correspondents and old stand bys

have indelicately demurred

and every solitary safety hatch
has been otherwise secured.

Don't call me,

Don't call me,

Don't call me.

Forget my address
And my face
Forget the path that leads you
to this place.
Erase it from your memory
Forget it all
and please don't call.
The consequence is far too dear
and too predictable, I fear.

Don't mistake me for a tympani
next time you take a beating.
I know you've heard this all before
But for my sake it bears repeating.
Not in a while,
not even now and then
no, not if you are bleeding.

Just simply do not call,
don't call to me again.

O, please, by now

you must know how
this roundely will end.

Don't call me or
so help me...
You must take this to your heart
as a warning
Or as a threat
But this one thing you must remember
This one thing do not forget
Don't call me or, so help me,
I will come.
After all is said and
all is done,
don't call me,
if you call me
I will always come.