The Final Letting Go

Strange, the sounds that echo out
within a not quite silent scream.
Holding back, and yet unable
to hold it back forevermore.
Physical, this need of tone's expression.

It used to be that mourning
was a natural occurrence.
Banshee screams and tears
that rent the unity of the air.

How is it that we're not allowed
to scream our final approbation
anymore...? Beat your chest, or
kick a tree. Melt then, coming
to your knees, to join the history
of tears still left unshed.

Feelings spent on more that just
approval. Honesty must be
the question now. How true,
the lies you kept on telling -
pretending everything must be okay.

Fake it till you make it, yet
the fake is just a forgery.
It never makes reality complete.
Your will was never meant
for such as this.

Strange, the sounds that echo out
within a not quite silent scream.
Holding back, and yet unable
to hold it back forevermore.
Physical, this need of tone's expression.

Giving in, the world spins once more.
Strange, the sounds that echo out,
in this, the final letting go
of grief...

? Michaelette ?

6/5/2002
Copyright© 2002, Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .