Bottled Screams

closed off to the world -
face, body, gestures, speech
but eyes reveal all.
and they stare
glassy,
a seemingly calm lake ——-
but a thrashing current
toils beneath
shifting in t u r m o i l -

through this foggy pane of glass is a scream
but it comes out as the
softest
of w h i s p e r s

please peer through these
murky waters
and dark wells

there is a shipwreck that lives there
its black sails
ripped, moving through the underwater darkness like
ghosts chained,
slaves to past sorrows

it’s hull
c r e a k s
it speaks to nothing but
it’s own loneliness

it floats, gently glides
its sails like tendrils
stroking the darkness
like outstretched fingers

the captain never takes the helm
he’s a ghost
he screams messages into glass bottles
seals them and lets go -
they float to the surface
like paper lanterns floating on a breeze

they rise upwards,
through the sea,
through the endless wells
towards the surface

kissing the air,
one at a time
ripples relentlessly radiate
across crystal waters
their glass shattered by the light

but the screams have long gone,
all that is left are whispers

we are both still
as your gaze connects to mine

and I wonder
if your eyes
have seen the lonely captain,

felt the darkness of his ship sailing past,

seen his hushed whispers;

the faded echos

of bottled screams