There are screams travelling across rooftops tonight,
Making their way to my ears and yours.
Screams emanating from a fire that burns within a soul so wounded and torn.
Do I shut my eyes to the noise and pretend I hear nothing?
Somewhere, someone is in pain.
Another minute goes by.
I turn to look at you and I know you hear it, too.
The screams grow louder.
Why do we pause?
Are we so absent from life?
I remember that time we argued.
Our voices shrill with anger,
Our hatred boiling over.
To your cries or mine.
The screams grow fainter.
It was no use trying.
This madness crawls inside my head,
this ugliness leaves my words unsaid,
this emptiness makes me cling in dread
to the shadows of the living dead.
It has left me bereft
to stand up and be seen,
to rise above myself and walk,
to happily live my dream.
Would I be happier if words were silent?
Would I be saner if hurt had no voice?
Would the world be silent if I made no sound?
Would the world be voiceless if I made the choice to sacrifice my art,
to stop my words from spilling out of my barren soul onto this guiltless paper?