Incomplete
Inside
a voice calls you on;
a blinding echo
shrill and long -
pushing through,
past what’s real -
fading, shading
what you feel.
Inside
the scars that mark your pain
won’t let you tell -
you can’t explain.
Can’t lose control,
can’t understand,
don’t want to cry
or lose the man.
Copyright © K Cochrane | Year Posted 2018
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