a pulse in the witching hour

This is a poem about being desolate and having no one to save you but yourself and the challenge of being a sick soul and how to escape the darkness.

is anybody out there? 

Can you hear me? 

Out there in the darkness so pitch black you cannot see your own hand.

The absence of your face and not even your shadow to gaze upon for shallow comfort.

Why can't you hear me screaming?

I'm howling so loud I've pierced my ears and they leak a simmering liquid. I have shattered everyone's 

hearing before me because no one utters a sound not even a lonely whisper

Not One. Single. Sound.

My throat burns with my life viciously trying to maul it's way out so others may understand.

My hand splayed over my chapped lips.

No one will listen.

how can i speak so others may want to understand.

Author's Note

I'm back and so glad i'm going to do my best to keep up on here even if I don't produce poems every day. I have a habit of writing and then not writing for a long time again but i'm in crisis right now and I need this site to heal. I love all writers and have missed everyone. honestly i'm very sensitive right now but i'd like your opinion, I just always think you have to write a certain way. That there is a right and wrong to write and it hurts me, i'm vicious to myself.

Reviews

[Lyn Anderson]

This is a very powerful verse. It is very intense, and the form is very nice. One minor question, is the use of capital I versus little i intentional? It almost seems like the first one should be little i as well, seeing as the person feels alone and insignificant.

[Jacquelene Vanessa Moreno]

thank you so much, I really appreciate your input :). I'll take your edit seriously because the person (me) feels exactly as you say. The title is meant to be lower case but I like the idea of using small letters for the questions as well. that's a wonderful suggestion, Thank you about the form i wasn't sure how to write it at first.

[Lyn Anderson]

It is very good. I was glad to catch it in the feed.

[Chris]

Taut, an aftertaste of quite real.

[William Liston]

I could certainly relate to this piece. Crying and screaming at the top of your lungs, but not being heard...such a terrible feeling. I felt the intensity in this. Very good read. Well done.

-William Liston

[Jacquelene Vanessa Moreno]

thank you, so much and it kills but somehow you got to pull through it. It's so nice to hear that i'm not that alone with my bleak heart. there is always something that makes us feel me empty, i'm so happy you enjoyed my piece and you put a smile on my face.

[Robert Francis Callaci]

A shattered soul, a battered heart, all alone in the desert, burning, bleeding, screaming, and only the buzzards hear you. But souls and hearts heal and soon your voice will be heard and understood.

A powerhouse of a piece, I heard your soundless screams....

my warmest
bob

[Jacquelene Vanessa Moreno]

thank you i'm glad you enjoyed this, I love what you wrote, it's true what you say about the buzzards being your only solace, thank you again for saying it was powerful i appreciate it :)