Whisper, whisper.
Who was that?
Was it me?
I couldn’t tell.
Inside or outside my skull.
Perhaps it was a memory,
Come alive,
Developed consciousness and agency of its own.
Whisper, whisper.
Memories gone.
Where are my memories.
Blank slate.
The trace of a lone thought,
Moving through a cavern of void.
But there it is again.
Whisper, whisper.
The remnant
Of an echo
Of a fragment
Of a dream
Of who I am.
What am I?
Am I here at all?
Solar Flare
The whisper carries, sometimes more than a shout. Stronger because you never know quite where it came from. “I am the voice of the people, I am the word of the world. Everyone thinks this, only you hesitate. I am precious truth, carefully guarded by fingers over bold lips. I am the secret of the In, only you are Out.”
whispers cling to my skin
as if my ears weren’t
tormented enough
now words are
stuck on flesh
and impossible
to brush off
they speak your name
and sing your song
we’re minutes away
’til murmurs creep
inside my lungs.
mfgm
She heard a whisper near her ear. She couldn’t make out the words, but only a ghost of a conversation. But the room was dark, the door locked and no one had entered. Still she heard the voices, having a conversation. About her.
Chanpheng
I began to whisper, “Do you know where the candles are?”
He looked at me in worry. We can’t have seriously forgotten the candles. Our little one sat at the table looking at us expectedly, ready to recieve his birthday cake.
Where had we put those stupid candles!
Mrs Craddock
I remain whisper quiet while sneaking in your mom’s room to bang her. I don’t want to wake your pops or her other suitors
Whisper, whisper.
Who was that?
Was it me?
I couldn’t tell.
Inside or outside my skull.
Perhaps it was a memory,
Come alive,
Developed consciousness and agency of its own.
Whisper, whisper.
Memories gone.
Where are my memories.
Blank slate.
The trace of a lone thought,
Moving through a cavern of void.
But there it is again.
Whisper, whisper.
The remnant
Of an echo
Of a fragment
Of a dream
Of who I am.
What am I?
Am I here at all?
The whisper carries, sometimes more than a shout. Stronger because you never know quite where it came from. “I am the voice of the people, I am the word of the world. Everyone thinks this, only you hesitate. I am precious truth, carefully guarded by fingers over bold lips. I am the secret of the In, only you are Out.”
whispers cling to my skin
as if my ears weren’t
tormented enough
now words are
stuck on flesh
and impossible
to brush off
they speak your name
and sing your song
we’re minutes away
’til murmurs creep
inside my lungs.
She heard a whisper near her ear. She couldn’t make out the words, but only a ghost of a conversation. But the room was dark, the door locked and no one had entered. Still she heard the voices, having a conversation. About her.
I began to whisper, “Do you know where the candles are?”
He looked at me in worry. We can’t have seriously forgotten the candles. Our little one sat at the table looking at us expectedly, ready to recieve his birthday cake.
Where had we put those stupid candles!
I remain whisper quiet while sneaking in your mom’s room to bang her. I don’t want to wake your pops or her other suitors