lost in translation. (dear you, pt. 14)

they say silence speaks loudest;

i wouldn’t know -

i haven’t heard silence in who knows how long.

beautiful, peaceful, deafening silence -

i hardly remember it.

all i can comprehend is the pulling of voices.

voices pulling each way.

good voices.

average voices.

manipulative voices.

my own good, average, and manipulative voice.

i wonder when you last heard your own voice?

because, you see,

i’ve heard mine a lot lately.

i’m recognizing the patterns.

trying to make sense of them.

trying to ignore it when i’m supposed to,

and trying to tune in closer with a voice more divine than my own can ever be.

i wonder when you last heard your own voice?

because, you see,

i used to think that i could translate your words.

i thought that i could comprehend the thought processes that compose the symphony of your soul.

but it’s a foreign language now.

words and worlds that i can’t inhabit;

thoughts and dreams that don’t have a space for me.

i wonder when you last heard your own voice?

because, you see,

i think that there are only two possibilities at this point.

either you changed your mind,

your tune,

your language,

your conviction,

or,

or,

or,

you already had your mind made up,

and you tuned me into another frequency,

all the better to deceive me,

to set me on a different course,

and to send me on my way.

dear you,

everything ends someday,

and so i have to ask myself,

i wonder when you last heard your own voice?

because yours is unrecognizable,

and i want to hear it again.