The Torture of Words

I do not know what called me out.
Or maybe it was not a call but a push.
People insisted on speaking to me,
Wanting me to answer them,
Continually forcing words out of me
Till I was afraid for myself.
So I escaped into the street
Where it was dark
And less could be seen of me.
I became invisible,
So no one would talk to me.
What could be seen of me
Avoided them as much as possible,
Whimpering to those who came near,
“Do not hurt me.
Please do not hurt me anymore.
For I am a silence and a being,
And to make me speak and speak and speak
Is an agony.”
In this way I walked
Until I came to the quiet of the seashore.
Silent –
For the sound of the waves
Is part of the sea’s being.
While the voices of people
Are not of themselves,
But are a pain.
They are a wailing of untruth and fears.

Copyright ©2003 Tony Crisp

Copyright © 1999-2010 Tony Crisp | All rights reserved