Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

I don't want to make Believe anymore
That
There is something more
Than the withering
Nerves
Signaling Hope
That There is Nurture
In the deafened whisper
Of what must have been my own
Willfulness to Voice Compassion
In the Likeness of a Liking
Beyond Imaginative Discourse
I now know as unhealthy
But now the voice still talks..
And this disconcertion in discernment of who is speaking
Comes to mind
It never use to sound like that
Perhaps, if you will...
Only time
Will find the ways to, was before I 
Ever heard, those things I cannot see
That seem to say so many things I never thought to keep soundely pitched in the silence of having missed, as never there...