Is my voice ever forever becoming quieter

A year ago, you’d be deeply troubled to hear it by now

Smaller, slighter, and far less full

More less of what you loved

Were I today

Speaking on the news

Inquiring in the produce department

Or campaigning next door

Don’t worry

Your ears would only find faint resemblance to some old someone

You’d not think to ask, “But who?”


There are times when shadows will not do
Will not do
Will not do
When their storied presence pains the eye
Pains the eye
Pains the eye
And I see wrong mystery, dark’ning doors
Dark’ning doors
Dark’ning doors


You were spoiling me, delivering the morning news to my doorstep

Changing headlines to all that I needed to read, nothing less

You were educating me, either that or reprogramming my heart

Carrying its weight for free, lightening the burden of beating again

You were reminding me of me, the me I was and am and cannot never be

Speaking life into an atrophied smile, why’d you die?