Whispering To The Shadows

Are we wrong for each other?
Speechless are we whenever we meet.
Petty greetings are our masks.
We chat briefly and stay between
the shallow lines of congeniality
but i want to see you underneath.

What do you yearn for?
If seeing is believing,
and believing is feeling,
I consider that you feel nothing
when you look at me, and,
that you think I return coldness.

Who do you want?
All I can hear are the questions.
When is it my turn to be the answer?
Does anyone else look at you
with the same masked need?
And would you know if they did?

Why can't it be me?
I tell myself I am happy with the way things are.
But i choke on the words,
my heart bleeding in my throat,
hoping that by saying the lie
it will nurture and grow into reality
but the dead stopped growing long ago

Can you hear my thoughts whisper?
Everytime I close my eyes,
I can feel you watching me
kissing me, touching me
so intense,
i lick my lips in anticipation

Where are you?
but when i open them you are gone
standing so close i could feel your heat
and yet we are so far apart
unable to stride the chasm between
the distance of two heartbeats


Whispering To The Shadows,
by Leopoldina DeWinter