Breathless
I can only hope that what they'll come to eventually see Is me becoming more of me, And less of a shell, quiet and empty, An echo chamber of my own little hell. Please understand, I wish everyone well, But the moments I want to scream come so unexpected, It's an executed ambush that steals my lungs first so I cannot tell. So as I'm begging for breath, For just a little more space, Watching the darkness sparkle the air in front of my face, I begin to remember I wasn't always this way. Not always the causation of furrowed brows, And the subject of back door conversation, They tell me that they worry, And I suppose I would too if I heard the hush that fell in post-devastation. See, one day it left and never truly came back-- And not one song, no sermon, nor academic study ever seemed to summon it again after that. Filling the silence never worked-- Not the dark whispered tones, The empty laughter, The blaring radio every late night drive home, I t