Fear revealing what’s underneath.
Hidden words, the surface beneath
buoy topside, outside dangling
on my tongue
the truth is flung
through the air
but missed your ears.
You cannot hear
when you're always talking.
I missed my target
but I keep trying
as words are flying
they do not catch.
Will not absorb
when you are always thinking
of what to say next.
Then again, I am guilty of the same.
Have I heard a word you’ve said?
In this miscommunication
exchange of frustration
it is a bed we both must lay in.
copyright 2006
Gwendolyn
Beyer |