Telephone wires do not exist anymore.

They went extinct in my house

Twelve years ago.

Phones don't shatter lives anymore

The way they shattered one fifty years ago.

My historical alter ego looks at me in dismay

I have learned nothing from her.

Her eyes do not exist anymore.  Even our names start with the same letter.

 And there is another letter that haunts us both.

She was informed of the cracks by the telephone.

 I was informed of mine by words –

The very words that once made my life.

I cannot cry anymore. My eyes are dry.

So I decide to resort to paper

And shed words instead of tears.