Visions

Visions Such sordid words have fallen into deaf ears. A mind ignored in swollen form and without fear. Today I show my face and whispers turn to screams, visions of what might have been and what will never be. Conforming to rejection, and its coexisting pain until abnormal is routine, and it’s routine to tolerate. The scars are embedded, lost in translation, spoken too softly, or maybe you didn’t hear me...