Author Information
Voice
Folder:
Teardrop of Coloured Soul
All I need is a voice.
To scream.
To whisper.
To communicate.
I can close my mind
or
block my ears,
but still
I can discern
the voice.
It gravels in the brain.
Forcing me to communicate.
With you.
With me.
With anyone slipping by.
I'm in a vacuum.
It follows me.
Insistent.
Demanding.
Forcing me to confront myself.
My breath escapes me
across the spaces of distance.
Razor sharp mind
dulled by
inactivity.
My mind is raw.
I must stop using my voice,
my whispers,
as arrows
It feels like time is
It feels like time is standing still when I read your words
Vive le Quebec libre!