The Raft In The Raging Ocean

The first sound spoken into the void is the hardest to hear

Convince me that the silence isn’t trying to wound me

The pond of the past casts an awfully familiar reflection

Let me wear it on my face

Picture me like a poster

I am the unfinished project with no deadline

Co-created by every blow I’ve ever taken

Cast me on the wall from a film projector

There are pieces, fragments and frames missing

The roughest of rough drafts

Acoustically working it out like the tuning of an instrument

I don’t write about anyone real anymore

Not that it really applies

This probably should’ve been three separate notes

But am I better than the words I’ve already put on paper