Letters For Someone, Someday

a lonely, wistful drifting

I hear the voice of purity
but I forget myself
I hear the voice of distance 
But the words are not themselves

I hear the voice of loving
I hear the voice of hurt
I hear the voice of wisdom
I hear the voice of worst

The words are meant for files
To heed myself things
The words bob above the sea
Like many great themes

I hear the voice of loneliness
The words forget themselves
I hear the voice of death 
But I am not myself 

I hear the voice of grace
Of rose and thorn and peach
Of rising, falling, floating, down
Dream the sound of nothing

I exist in a plane of green and blue and pink
Shadowed into purple
Wistfulness, so bittersweet 

I cry that you remember me
Remember me, remember me
Falling down from far above; drifting 

Words, they're not working
The format fits but that bit slipped
I poisoned what you left for me
I lie, I never cry at all

Purity becomes stained with red
I hear the voice of good intentions poisoned
I hear the voice of selfless selfishness
I hear the voice of self and vanity

I dream of a lonely, wistful drifting