I have forgotten the sound of your voice.

It used to sound like a tsunami;
Crashing down with each word so deeply that they would echo around my head for days.
Now;
Your voice is more of a slow drip from the broken pipe under the sink;
That I’ve been meaning to fix for the long part of a short while;
The sound doesn’t resonate as loudly as it used too;
More of a fading;
"drip"
"drip"
"drip";
which comes and goes.

Your voice is no longer a symphony of sound that modulates in tone, forming melodies in my mind;
Melodies which I used to catch myself humming too, more often than sometimes.
Now;
It is a mere text tone and a slight ding before lightening up the screen attempting to shine light through the darkness I have placed around the memory of you;
You don’t shine so brightly anymore.

Your voice was once the sweet melody of a lullaby whoes words could softly sooth me to sleep;
Now;
You are the bare silence that incircles me in the early hours of the morning;
Leaving room for your memory.

I have forgotten the sound of your voice.
Simply because I have stop searching for you;
In the tiny cracks of light the slip under my door;
Or in-between the words of your favourite song.
I have stopped searching for your name in conversation;
and I have grown deaf to the sound of you.

There is no you anymore, just me;
And the lovely sound of silence.