say a thing and be heard
only if you paint it a thousand times
on the sky, on a flock of birds
flying by, pronounce it with chimes,
with wails, with anger and cook it like lies.

say a thing and look into the endless abyss,
where it echoes and, mockingly, lures you in.
nothing human nor even humane in eternal bliss
of a Nothing. And yet... you feel your kin
in the echoing voice of your own desperate scream.

say a thing, if you still have the strength
to tell anything to un-listening ears.
say a thing, if you haven't already wear off your legs
and worn down your updated gears.
are these... tears?

say a thing and keep saying it till your voice is rough and hoarse.
wait for someone to stop and to listen.
and, i suppose,
you will see in their eyes a thing. it will glisten
and shimmer. and, if you look close
you'll hear an echo, repeated in foreign voice
and you'll see something that will make you laugh.

you'll see a mirror of your own beating and bleeding heart.