Tag Archives: whisper

Image and Memory

I keep trying to remember
who I was when I was a child, but
the blanks in my head
still sound like gunshots
and the scars in my skin
still tell stories
that I can’t remember.
There’s just the overlapping thoughts
that take me back to almost,
almost there,
almost known,
almost a part of me left
where out of sight
means out of mind
and being out of time
means being left behind,
just this walking whisper
still trying to be heard
in a room that’s still rumbling,
like vibrations and echoes might come together
to create an image of sound
that could show me
who it was
that I’ve always been.

Just Above a Whisper

I know it’s in me,

this fury that could wrap hands around necks

and stomp faces to the ground.

I could write a book about reasons alone,

but all I’d really need is a page,

one big enough to hold a single line

that might articulate

all the stupid things that piss me off.

I think I keep my hands in my pockets

because I know this is all in my head,

I know that when I’m angry

I really just need to be alone

and the only one

who can solve this problem

is that voice inside my head,

whispering to me

that my reasons aren’t good enough

and before I hurt someone else

I should focus on hurting myself first.

Last thought forgotten

I’m wasting space all around me,

allowing myself to simply linger

along the dotted line

like the coke lines at the next table.

Here and now,

I’m sinking into myself,

by myself,

having one-sided conversations

where there is no asking for advice

and the only shoulder there is strains my neck.

This is a rumble of spare parts

where skin stretches

and splits if you’re not careful

and I’m never mindful

when it comes to these landfills of suspicion

where recognition comes at a cost

and a whisper could destroy everything.

Life lands us in a cycle of days

where the same things are done

and the gestures we collect

are left in the back of our minds

until the stink of the person next to you

brings it all back for another turn.


When you go

If only I could whisper,
land somewhere close
to the places
I’d like to see.
I wish I knew
what I was thinking now,
between the tangled days
where we’ve been
jumping between the knots.
I just keep acting out,
unable to imagine
what cant be thought of,
that lonely side of possibility
where I’m the last one left
just living
and trying to go on
without you.

Almost alone

It all
just sort of happens
along our single paths,
thinking that
we’ll always need,
or have the want
to balance out.
Hold onto that girl
who just might leave one day.
To know that fear
that’s worse than death,
not just losing, but
losing to someone else,
someone who’ll
have the hands that touch
and the voice
that’ll whisper
against her ears at night.


It’s a smile
that’s never waited,
there for
the complexities
and randomness
of things bringing gifts
from a more wanted area.
It’s the decade of growing hands,
loved along reaches
where who they are
only matters
because we care.
We all have someone
tucked into our thoughts
as they dream of only one
and for me
she laughs so perfectly,
yielding to each other’s voices
beneath such open mouths
where our lifted troubles
smooth over
the whispering saviours
who’ve helped carve
our paths together.

untitled {30/30 – 08/30}

The ugly side of pain cuts our eyes open

until we cry so hard we start to smile.

And our entire bodies become tremors

until we’ve calmed down

and our clothes need readjusting.

I’m still looking for the flawless

through restless nights that were steeped like a tea

where the dreams drove me off cliffs

over and over again

until I woke up.

I don’t want to be in this mind,

where it’s like time gives up its sands

into an hourglass that doesn’t catch what passes through,

it only vaguely records what passes by,

and at first glance it all passes for what thought we knew more about.

This frequency delivers shockwaves of misjudgement

where houses get torn apart

and the cities are all we have left to turn to,

like some self-fulfilling prophesy

that keeps us all whispering when it’s dark.