Scam Likely

whenever my phone vibrates
in my left front pocket,
no matter how long its been,
I am offered a millisecond of scared hope. 

I wish hope didn't happen.
I wish I didn't check my email all the time. 
I wish I didn't check your block fifty times a day.
I wish I could throw my phone into a river.

no charms to rest wishes on,
I keep looking, feeling like a rube,
as the modern ruse gets me
every fucking single text or telemarketer. 

terrified, one day it will be you,
and I will shake uncontrollably,
pretend to be cool, aloof,
but we will both know it's a scam. 

or not, maybe I will never hear from you again,
and that's probably for the best,
because there is nothing to save
since there never was anything from the beginning. 

happy, it's Eric or Abby,
normal people I love without remorse,
happy, it's someone in Dubai
saying they need my bank account info.