Whisper

I tuck my hair behind my ear.
Bite down on the edge of my pen,
Try to think,
To breathe.

The cover of the journal curls
Under my fingers, my grasp.
Questions swirl,
Unknowns

Pound my head, creating doubt.

Sometimes words come as easy as breath.
And I hold on to them, waiting for the picture
To come through,
To match.

And others, the image comes to mind,
To life, first. And with a little tweak
Here and there,
It sits.

Waiting for my thoughts to catch up.

They come from every direction,
When least expected, when looking
For answers,
For time.

But the thoughts turn to more questions,
And the questions often turn to tears,
Of sadness,
Of fear.

I just need an answer to one thing.
But I’ll just sit here in the silence,
Still waiting,
Listening,

Even if it’s just for a single whisper.