What is time?
What is it to me?
have I been alive
for centuries,
or only since
my eyes opened
this morning?
I remember
things, in a river
a flow of untold
tales told only
in my dreams,
I remember
sounds
feelings
tastes
scents
textures
of things
I’ve never
experienced
or even heard
of…
I here voices
words, sentences
fragments
of thoughts
and wonder
where they fit
in the puzzling
symphony
called my mind,
I listen
as they speak
I listen
as they tweak
I hear the pain
I hear the rain
I hear the vain
I hear twisted
pleas for simple
understanding,
I hear broken dreams
voiced by broken souls
and my eyes cry
because all I do is listen
all I do is hear
I can’t hold a hand
I can’t chase away the fears
I can’t caress away a tear
I can only listen
as my own soul
shrinks inside
I can only listen
can’t take away the pain
I can only listen
can’t walk together in the rain
I can only listen
can’t dream against the vain
I can only listen
and cry those salty tears
from my soul called emotions
and listen
as they drop
away and
hit the floor
shattering the
tenuous hold
I had on the string
the cord
the broken sword
as I fall away
with bloody hands
staining the white dress
and alabaster skin
the clear green
watery blue
swirled with a red hue
while the fish swim
away, the sharks
swarm my resting place
even though my body
has long since
sunk away
within decay
my bones still
rattle and play
whenever
I pray
for my prey
though
the last dove
died today.