If I whisper

Help I am here I am lost

Who will hear besides the wind the whisper pours into?

Will it be carried until it is a scream to the ears of someone who can find me, or do the words fall from lips and settle in the sand.

The glass has to break some time and the ticking clock, the cracked wall, it has to come down.

There has to be a way around it.

Beyond trying to explain my case like a witness testifying or a guilty party taking the stand.

Not guilty

I close my eyes and try to sort through days of memories and words spoken and written that cannot be remembered does someone else remember so I can?

So I can explain what I have forgotten.

If we met, what would you do? Because I think I would finally, finally, have no more words to cry out.

The fear of singing back, fear of wrath.

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