he's been surrounded by voices
the clash of baritone and soprano
horn butting head; hurt against heart
But these empty chimes have torn the House
It’s an echo after the cacophony of
“That uncle did this, your third cousin could do that”
“Why are you being so difficult?”
and the sorries, because
“I’m just so busy right now”
Then he’s filling the echoes
out past curfew with silhouettes
that paint neon on old, worn walls
loitering on streets; testing the knife's edge
But Silence grows as he blindly grasps
And it’s an echo when he realizes
©itz_frost
I