soundscape

Tell me,
in so many words,
what you dared, what you did,
what you discovered.

Tell me, in so many words…
are there enough?
enough words to fully explain, describe,
the value of events?

Or were you,
listening. 
Gently, softly,
in-between the silent pauses,
the ones with value and strength –
those are the most important places,
the silent stares,
the silent glances,
the silence and opened eyes;
the words you dare not say,
yet said everything with those
bold,
bright, oval optic nerves;
the ones which haunt your dreams,
paralyzing you into a cold, night sweat.

You’ll wake one day,
repeating them in your head,
each stare and glance.
Lost in dreams, they will become,
when your eyes are closed,
when reality is sleeping.

What was once just so,
easy,
is gone. 

What was once so,
simple,
has faded.

It has become,
complicated.

It has become more;
more than words can explain. 

So, in fact, there are no words, 
no words which can retell what happened,
exactly. 
For each memory
is a memory of the last;
and like a labyrinth of dominoes,
each one falls,
slightly,
misconstrued,
misunderstood,
a convoluted set of mismatched pairs,
forever changed;
always remaining what you thought
it was,
but it will never be. 

So give up;
give up these words you think you can say,
or didn’t say,
change their relation,
change their direction,
change their memory. 

Because the past is long gone,
the future doesn’t exist,
and there’s no pin-pointing

the present.  

It is also gone. 
Which means nothingness follows us,
both,
and all our disorganized sets
of long-forgotten memories. 

They are gone too. 
So are you.
So am I. 
I bid you farewell. 
I bid you, adieu.

 

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PoemsASHLEY CHILDS