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?”
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…