Monday, April 13, 2015

Listen Not

My voice
knows only pencil & paper
plus
the internal diatribe that plagues me.

My truth
knows no sound save the click of the keyboard;
no sound
outside my stuttered cries.

My song
pours the only way it knows how -
voiceless
and
sorrowful -
through every vein in my body
and every word I lay down.

If you wish to know me -
know every secret breath I hold -
find it not in the vibration of my vocal chords,
but in those words I've penned.



On inspiration for this piece: This idea was pulled from Poetic Asides's 2015 April PAD Challenge: Day 13. "For today’s prompt, write a confession poem."  

I find most of what I write to be a confession of sorts and often times, the only way I know how to let out what is burning me from the inside.  I think I pretty much said just that a couple of days ago with "More Often Than Not." 

1 comment:

Björn Rudberg said...

Beautiful melancholy.. there is a silence so painful in your words.