"Scribbling Utterances"
I will tell you things that I hear myself say
Things said in between silence and darkness
Watching your despair grow so tall and huge like the walls in your room.
Who could hear when you scream so loud?
Is every cry meant to be that loud?
The intensity draws strokes of the tongue
Than acceptance and help
The errant hope you once had
Feels so slippery at your every attempt to grasp it
You sit forlorn waiting for the darkness you so dread.
The list waits but you write and wait
Scribbling utterances as they come
Hoping to read each line,
At that other end of time.
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