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.