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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.


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.

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