Singing

Her voice stands out from the rest,

light and full of life, even though she’s…

Even though she’s gone…

It echoes through my skull, like

someone yelling in a damp cave,

someone who’s lost and is looking for

a way out.

His voice is in the back, trying to call

me back to the fold, pleading with me,

asking me to quit listening to them,

but their singing and screaming drowns him

out, my whimpering and raspy breathing my only

response to a friend.

Norr, my friend, is one of the only reasons

I haven’t listened to their screams for help,

their pleads for me to join them…

And yet, I am surprised I’m here,

writing this, since the twitch in my hand

and the constant PTSD induced episodes

keep me up at night.

I am running on Mango Monster Energy

and a dream, since I’m getting max two hours

of sleep, and nobody notices my bags.

I...I sing along with Jane, whenever

one of our songs come on, whenever

time she just starts...singing songs…

I sing along with her…

I laugh with Daniel, even though whenever

I see him in my eyes… I want to cry…

All I wanted to see was him grow up,

and now my image of him is a twelve year old

with a hole in his skull, bloody

and destroyed…

I scream with them, when they claw

at my eyes and ears, wanting me to

let them out…

They want out…

They want me to join them…

Her singing beckons me to their fold…

Her lively voice, light and pure…

But why?

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