what must I say to get you to speak

what must I say to get you to speak— I’ve tried the soft approach, the hard approach, drank whiskey alone in dark corners wrote letters I never sent screamed at the night sky asking the moon to drag your voice out of the void I’ve said all the wrong things, tried all the right ones— sat in smoke-filled bars with the ghosts of old conversations, sat on bus benches with a thousand cigarettes burning holes in my throat— I’ve been your fool, your priest, your punching bag— but you never say a damn thing back.