[a cry for help] -a poem.

I will only search for you inside a hollow head,
buried oh so subtly behind a fashioned curtain.
Hide from all the light of day curled in your room.
Speak of foreign wishes whispered softly in the gloom.
Entomb your face inside of dirt and cover up the hole;
speak when you are finished and then maybe I will hear you,
but make sure to cry quietly in case someone will know...
But as to what secret you have to share, how can you really?
You want to scream you want to speak you want to cry and bellow.
Tear yourself apart for words that you cannot distinguish.
So hug your legs and rock away your dizzy spinning swirls,
Running church bells clanging deep inside a panting mind.

Scream! Speak! Cry! Retch! Die! Just get something out!
Cough! Screech! Choke! Talk! Pursue the hidden voice!
Snarl! Call! Yell! Gag! Shriek with pure disquiet!
Keeping yourself prison for the sake to hide yourself!
Claw at all your walls that you have built around a fortress.
So what if you are starving parched at least you are protected.
Despise yourself if you provoke a mutter in the darkness.
Relinquish precious words, my love; they're drying all your tears.
Churning, whirling wonders from a sacred dictionary;
a thousand small inventions intoned in a desperate mind
that flutter in the darkness in the wind of seething boredom
until they are put out again, a dead match in the night.

I'll find you lying quiet staring sadly at the shadows.
You'll beat you down, you'll scratch yourself, you'll pull yourself in two.
You split apart your tongue in halves in case it ever functions
and pray for conversation loudly within every breath.
Pile bricks up one by one and buttress them with wanting.
Long to free yourself as you secure your every lock.
Throw away the key and then question your intentions.
Now you're trapped in silence. Oh. Oh well. At least it's safe.

I will mourn your every word that you have never uttered.
I will cry for every time you never made a friend.
I will sing a dirge of loss for every second rendered,
up unto the shadows that you keep for your companions.
I will toss up ashes for all of your wordless wishes.
I will scream and suffer for your every aching dream.
I will pray for miracles that will help you to motion
to a kindly stranger with a talent for compassion.
I will watch you lay yourself into an open coffin.
Morgues are homes of solitude for those with time to think.
I will bring a priest to say a service for your lifetime
wasted in the shadows while your curtains remained closed.