Each of you sing to me in drastically different voices. While I listen for blessed harmony, my only reward is off-key. In attempting to sing along, I’ve created a choir of noise. No arias or Gershwin upbeat tunes for me. It’s deep baritones competing with the highest sopranos that leave me begging for quiet. Please, I need quiet! If need be, I will stand in the bitter cold in order to escape that cruel howls that bellow from your mouth.
I’ve closed my eyes for a moment to enjoy the blasting voices of strangers. I prefer their blended sounds as opposed to my own world.
What voice are you today?
Some can bring me up that I feel the sun warm my cheeks.
Others crash into my known sensitivities merely because they know where they lay.
Easily cruel to make up for their lack of power.
Cliche from a movie, you are the first person to say, “I think your fine, perfect just the way you are”. That, my trumpeter, is the closest you’ve come to seeing my tears.
Meanwhile the deep dark sounds that are emitted from the other side bring me as far down as possible. “You’ll probably get a pay cut”. “You haven’t gained as much weight as I have..”
I – ME – I – ME. Your metronome.
Late into the cold night air.