A whisper from the wind calls to me. It carries my name throughtout time, space, and darkness. The words, though unclear, reach deep within my soul where only you can go. The tears form and blink slowly from my eyes. Why can only you do this to me? As I teeter on the line of hating you, the utter mention of your name reminds me of a different place. A place I once was, if only for a short time. Sadness consumes me and my thoughts. As I slip further from the fakeness of this world, I remember the something I once was. Can you still see me? The dark shrouds me like a blanket that I wish never to be uncovered from. The safety of becoming numb has protected me thus far. But still I hear a whisper. If it is only but a whisper, why does it bellow out for only me to hear? The pain is an illusion, one that only I can see, hear, and smell. The sense of being able to feel has left me. The sense of tasting you would be too sweet for me to handle. Damn the whisper, it haunts me. I long not to be able to hear its muttered words. Clarity it seems, is a cruel irony. If only my tears would drown me...then I could not hear it, even if it is only but a whipser.
