you see it;
my eyes tell you the story;
dry; windburn; crack pipe melted;
life has escaped through my tear ducts.
you see me;
the wrinkled skin around my eyes
is a novella of pain you created with
your antagonist and their tiny finger knives.
you hear me;
my voice tells you the story;
crackled pronunciation; audibly out of tune;
each word exists at the end of a last breath.
you hear it;
a pulse, faint and depleted,
screams at your face, whispers in your ear,