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?
Motivations,
inclinations,
desires.
Intentions
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
