I try to find them
In the swollen eyes staring back at me
From a mirror that cracked
When the illusion shattered.
I try to find them
In the tinted memories
That your name has become;
In the voices that float inside
From right to left -
But I cannot make out
What they say.
Or
Perhaps I’m not listening.
Everyone wants a voice.
But
Nobody has anything to say.
Words -
They’ve dried up like the tetra-pack you threw out this morning.
Where they could have leaked onto pages
That defined courage and hope;
Their disappearance has resulted
In endemic self-doubt
And guilt.
I never listened.
I should have.
In my quest to find a voice,
I forgot to listen to yours.
But
Now, when I want to
The joke’s on me.
Because the words… have dried up.
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