Listen.
Stop not listening.

I’ve been tapped.
Sap bleeds.
It stings where sweetness lives.

Give me your ears.
I’ll torch ‘em to caramel.
I don’t need your lips,
your yowls, your static.
But taste.

Just ******* syrup.

Your screech gnaws
at the stem of my melody.

Eat the fruit.
Chew the pit.

Explaining the me of me.
Always been detailed oriented
It’s who I am, it’s part of me.
I pound my chest
Try to get point across
Voice in earnest tone
I get offended
When accused
Of being defensive
My opinion,
On defense mechanism
Is that it is an
Explanation mechanism.
Defense goes up
When it seems
You won’t even listen
You say you hear
I say you do not hear, Hear
Rather, you turn your cheek
To my offering of just listen for once.

So, rather than
Defense accusations
Think in terms of my
Imparting to you who I am
My thoughts, my feelings.
I want you to know me
As I want to know you.

An idea, a conversation evolution
Open it to new possibilities.
Ask a question, make a statement
But…rather than answer initial
Point of subject
Go back, dig, become a reaper
What is reason the matter
Took spoken form?
Discover the prompt
Of initial point of discussion
And, talk about it.

Defending oneself
With defense mechanisms
Nor acccusations of defense
Is simply a dead end.
Why is it essential to
To send attack claiming
Defense, what is it in you
Cannot face?
Translating defense mechanisms
Into positive outcomes
By investigating the crux
Of the defense
By both individuals
Seems a more positive approach.
A defense of sorts on either side
Is just that,
Does not change a thing.

Just listen, rather than accuse.
Let me be heard
Just, please listen to hear, Hear.
I want me to be part
Of life’s prisms
To travel into the intricacies of being.
If not allowed to talk
To share my inner-most self
Staying locked in my self-prison
Is not where I want to be.

it's time to be heard
in your mind yes listen now
yes you are correct

My tongue's not my own neither the deepest longings
And neither these for pursuit nor grasping but to know
Of promises unknowable in the flesh but will be
For which given only glimpses of their shadows
And to know that before Time and for all times
Not futility as seeming for the Teacher is present
And so too the end's the beginning and vice versa
But to hear the Voice for in the dark the ears see

Maybe my poems
have fallen on deaf ears
to a point
where
they lost
their
voice