I could whisper dire warnings or scream to have the deaf hear the result is same both ways for the knowing and the numb both show compassion for my plight each struggles in their own way to react with helpfulness stop my hand from harmful end
ignorance is the best haven of those who walk in lily fields with a bliss of newborn babes there is no blame for lucky ones for in their hearts they can't relate or understand the painful place to speak to them will do no good these caring allies with few tools
this contrasts with fellow kin who exist in shades of pain seeking exit that can't be found except by ways that all condemn they relate with torn flesh attempts to end the torment felt this gives no pill that cures the soul instead reminder of lost hope
in the end I feel alone standing next to idles hands filled with camps that stand outside my pool of shame with one desire the clueless gawk at my wounds while knowing look to see their own the sum is nothing for this one with screams and whispers for the world.
“I Could Whisper” was motivated by events surrounding my sharing about mental illness. People either changed the subject to something they related to, or they completely ignored what I was saying because the topic was uncomfortable(?). This happened both online and in person. It leaves the sharer knowing there is NOBODY out there.