i don’t know how

I don’t know how
to get to you,
where you are buried
invisible and small.
Your voice not a whisper,
but the perfect volume
oh, despite what
the other voices say.

Your opinions are
bottled, sealed.
Do you know them?
Hear them?

I will dig here
in this hard ground
because I miss you,
miss remembering you.

In this place
where lie the
consequences of a
quietly silenced heart.

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    • Sara, I love this question! And yet I am hesitating to answer. For what I thought as I wrote it doesn’t matter as much as what *you* think when you read it! I’d love to hear that! 🙂