proclamation of silence

i’ve been meaning to sit down and do this,

but i find myself questioning

the value,

the purpose,

and the significance of

saying what’s on my mind.

honestly no one is worthy enough to hear the pressure of silence once hearts break and dreams are shattered…

i wish i could pour it out,

label it,

store it somewhere in the hallway closet;

but the cuts are too deep to hide;

too painful to be bandaged.

but somehow… they manage to still bleed passion and breathe hope. i thought i wanted to tell this story but my vocal cords have grown cold, my fingers wilted and my conscience unwilling….there’s to much to lose, too less to gain but a story always needs a voice, needs an ending to match then meet a beginning.

a story needs characters, needs to peak in order to fall…a story needs a life, but i am fighting to dead the one buried under my chest cavity...

So where do I tell it?

What ears will hear?

What eyes will bare witness??????