I listen.
Not well.
But I can hear you.
I killed you.
Old, pathetic, feeble.
You held me back.
I learned to jump.
Be wild, dive in.
Ignoring the warnings
From my memories.
I became better.
Because you were dead.
That person I was.
Me. I had killed me.
The echo of past.
The dull roar of present.
I should have known better.
You can only silence,
Never ****.
You made me lose
Myself in order to get
Away from you.
Now...
I listen.
Not well.
But I can hear you.