fire of voices

Wednesday, August 25, 1999

It was better when the fire of voices were suppressed;

when moments affected me with cold calculation.

//

When anger, hatred, frustration, sadness could be held at bay,

at little more than the cost of happiness and love.

//

When only tidal forces could breach my fortress,

and, once breached, would wash away the receding water.

//

Rational thoughts were clouded less, and rages were few,

except with blood—when built up gases would explode forth on those most familiar and least deserving.

//

It was better when emotions were suppressed because of memory of pains;

when personalities could be pulled over my face like a poorly fit mask.

//

When lies and truth mattered little to me,

and each was exchanged for little more than a passing fancy.

//

But with worse comes happiness and love,

and isn’t the fire of voices but a small price to pay for truly living?

//