Stormed frays

The blues that quake inside of stormy grays just echo
over many days of memories. Fallen behind on sleep,
on breathing. Only held deep is the emotions clinging to the
frayed edges.

A soft kindness that cracks above the mind.  A sigh is released
in bittersweet melodies as the words vibrate throughout
the soul. A sharp growling is performed and shoved in front
of the stage. I only hope.

Alas that is all I can do.  My one last string that ties me together.
A joyful praise, in hope. Indeed the cackle of laughter is
vibrantly shining but I cannot allow such empty mind play to
follow me around.

Daresay the words I need to hear are only voiced in silence.
Yet would you even care that it is your voice I need to hear?
What matters is not. What cares is not. Yet a dream, imagination
can be real.

All I ask for is just one step of assurance finding me. Still I cannot
allow,myself to tell you just how much I hurt. Would it even  matter?
Perhaps but to me it seems worthless in the effort I am projecting
to keep you far from within me. Dare I get hurt, dare I cause harm.

Still I am given silence. I don't want it. I want to hear what is
rattling in your head, what is causing you to hesitate around me.
Yes I want to feel the expressions inside you. Yet I am nothing to
you. Just the image of a crazy person. Alas that is what  you continue
to "compliment" me with asides of another statement.

Still I am not moved by the unjust image you have painted of me.
Perhaps that is all,I am, really. The painted figure that never
can be a friend. 

Perhaps that is the mind playing to characters well.  Perhaps
that eases your mind to classify but does it really help?

Ah I never will understand why we have been placed in the same
time. Just only,  maybe,  a nuisance  is the reality since I tend to be
speaking or rattling more than you want.

Whatever. I have tried. I am not giving up but somewhere you need
to pickup slack because I tire of trying to always be what you want. I
tire of being the "convenient one". I tire of being only when it -
whatever "it "is - when you want.

Some days I just need a voice.  So hard it seems. Too much pressure,
I weigh. So be it.