The tenor,
The timbre.
It echoes through me.
It electrifies me.
My heart expands.
I smile.
I reach out of my head,
Into my surrounding world,
And I search for that whisper,
That rustle,
That soft humming,
Because I do not want
(And I cannot have)
Silence in my life.
I hold onto the vibrato.
I copy it.
I memorize it.
I cling to it for dear life.
And then I replicate it.
It’s how I get by.
It’s how I express my thoughts.
I always need more words,
More audible images,
To explain how I feel
And what I think.
And when the sounds fade away,
I will always keep them in my head.
I will find solace in the peaceful mumblings of my soul,
But I will never be truly satisfied.
Spoiler
I feel like people tend to read into this poem a little bit too much. I just want to make clear that I write exactly how I think. I'm not vague, and I hate to beat around the bush. So yeah, you could possibly draw several different interpretations from this poem, but in all honesty, it's stating EXACTLY what I'm thinking. The inspiration was drawn from my fear of losing my hearing in old age. (I'm already half deaf and so I value VERY highly what little I can hear right now.) So I hope that cleared things up, just in case you all were wondering where this seemingly came from.
