Just a Voice...

I am just a Voice of someone I used to know
Hushed silent...
although at times feeling like I'm screaming
at the top of my lungs in my own little sound proof box.
No matter how hard I try to beat the walls of my box down away from me
to free myself from my tourment they stand firmly in place
Like a solid rock unable to be moved.

No one can hear me.
I say the same things over and over but none in my world acknowledge them.
Who am I?
Just a whisper drifting through their lives in the wind.

Is it selfish to even want to be heard? My life is not my own...
The pain of the uncomfortable silence cuts deep
Wounds fester, bleed deep beneath the surface...
Yet, we throw a band-aid over them and say, "that's done."
My wounds are gapping open, my sores are fresh...
Yet the one who should be my nurse throws salt in my wounds...

Maybe I should surcume and give up the fight.
Maybe the life of a deaf, dumb, blind, mute should be the life for me.
Why do I bother!!!
Maybe this is the dumbest thing I've ever wrote, for sure the ugliest...
Maybe it just had to be done!
Maybe its late and I should just go to bed....