Flashes Of Feedback

There are flashes of feedback when I try and listen; Not from you, you play with precision; It’s your echo; The silence of what once was, the times filled with just because; It’s static that just won’t go away, it’s your echo; Feeling your hands digging fresh marks along my spine turning the pit of my stomach, it’s your echo drawing blood; So deep I choke on you, on what you’re always able to do; The fire in your hands, the echo of a spell caster stirs; It’s so difficult to swallow keep my insides down; My tears, a mimic of your echo feed on flashes of feedback.