Starlit Soliloquy
I can hear you.
You, in the corner, spouting gossip as I do—
Do you think yourself superior when we both prove ourselves
to be so unworthy?
I can hear you.
You, there, stand so close to me.
I can feel the warmth of your lips as they near me, touching cheek to cheek, lips dripping with empty promises that you are so wont to make.
Wont.
And I am wont to believe you.
I can hear you,
Voice inside my head, do you doubt yourself now?
Now that we’ve dug ourselves a pit, we doubt!
Oh, had only we realized earlier just how much we ought to be doubted—
I can hear you all!
Your voices illustrious and tongues flaming—
Do you think me ambivalent?
Have you known me to evade or equivocate?
Do you know me at all?
I demand so little of you that you answer me this:
Do you know that I can hear you?
I can hear you.
My guardian in the night.
A safety net, for which I carry a knife for my own subconscious self-ruination.
I can hear you.
Your welcome.
A welcome extended to an object of gossip—this object of gossip becomes the object of your affection.
I can hear you
And now I see you.
