Tell me a story. Tell me something to fill the silence pressing on my ears
Tell me something to quiet the screaming under my cranium
Tell me what Kyli did today in school;
Have her results come in yet?
Tell me what color the walls are from that angle;
I told you they were purple, not blue.
Tell me how many shoes you tied today at the game;
How many parents yelled “bad call!”
Because I can almost sleep when you talk
Tell me how this all began,
Because I can’t remember anything past the violence you dragged me from.
Tell me how the world spins
Tell me what your mum cooked you for dinner –
I miss her rough, frank voice more than I have every missed anything of my mother’s.
Tell me about the boy with CP who still ran up and down the field.
Because I can forget and remember when you talk
Tell me about your sister that we both can’t stand
Who’s her latest fling?
Tell me something that spins through my brain when I wake up
Like piano tunes almost in harmony the strings of the harp of your soul
Almost.
Because your stories are almost true
No matter how perfect the words are or aren’t
So please, before the taste burns my eyes and cheeks.
Tell me how many cigarettes your Mum smoked today.
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
Interesting stream of thought, this is. Winding its way though my mind as I read it, making me ponder the attitude, feelings, mood, circumstances that this conversation - or perhaps it is merely musings - was written in.
Well said, poet.
-
-
Thank you :-)
It was a poem about trying to get my significant other to actually talk to me about things, about anything, so that I can finally fall asleep, because it is so hard to do so alone.
-
Adding your comment:
