Swamp Voices

Words echoing
in your voice.
I try to read
but hear instead,
sweet and silent harmonies
designed from your
vocal cords
and delivered
by imagination and insanity.
And suddenly
tears spring
and slide
and fall into nothing
that really matters.
No one knows
these screaming verses
bloody and beating,
from this cavern
I call a heart.
I keep waiting for it
to be over
but I’m still stuck,
twelve years in mud,
in tar,
in some swamp of perpetual sorrow.
Where are you?
I seem to feel you
across these empty spaces
but is it you
or my dreams of you
that sustain this slowly dying heart?
I just wish the ache would stop.


5 thoughts on “Swamp Voices

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