I HEAR THINGS.

Epic Poem, Short Story. About voices inside of my head.

“So You Think You can tell Heaven from Hell?” — The Beatles

Them: “Are you listening?”

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Me: (If Only I could Listen…) Yes, what was that again?

Them:

Listen to Me !

Listen to this!

Listen to Him/Her.

Just Listen to Em’ Sis!

“If You don’t do yourself a favor; You Shall Surely pay for This!”

I dare say; “if only I Could Listen.”

If I May;
I rarely Listen, and I must give it to you straight — I have to tell the truth, and you all seem to have some Complaints.

I rarely listen, for reasons, plural — Multiple reasons, Yes.

Be that as it may...

• I faintly hear a word relayed, nor a tone expressed. Whether this be conscious or repressed… If I could quickly push re-play; respond with optimal progress, and relay!
  *Ahh,*
  …now that would be the day!

By proxy, I believe still my response will be,
“wait,” and/or “what?”

• While multitasking, most commonly. This mustn’t be…