Scratches on a cracked screen

Scratches on a cracked screen,

voicemail timestamps flicker,

fingers hesitate, then press play—

sound waves breaking, a low hum.

Her voice, a threadbare song

woven with static and silence,

murky words lost in the hiss,

lost to time and rusted tape.

I try to hold it—

a breath, a laugh, a word,

but it slips past, fading,

a ghost drowned in white noise.