Speak to me.

Tell me your secrets.

Through sutured lips,

I hear you strain.

Your hands bound,

cannot describe

through gesticulations,

you’re going to have to speak

with your eyes.


Convince me of the truth.

Was there ever a time

where we had meaning?

Did we delight the air

with our truth?

God spoke all of this

into existence;

so, what the hell

happened to you?






and pleasure

and aim.

I can read all this

through my eyes,

but all I see in yours

is fear

and pain.


So much for pure meaning.

I guess we’re flawed

right from the start.

Release you back into the wild,

unseal your lips,

unbind your arms,

unbind your heart.


Let out your voice

and will you speak

anything other than anger to me?

Pure jealousy,

revenge that you seek.

Where is the truth?

Is this reality?

We all have the chance

to make the choice,

but will we speak?


To each

a voice.

We long for what

we do not know.

We clamor for

a truth untold.


HG – 2019


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