The Art of Smiling

Lost Voice

Cracked vocalizations of words spoken years over as nothing more than a blank expression and a tired lie. Red eyes, the red sea, overflowing into nothing. Silent screams, dog whistle pleas, never to be heard. Canyons for veins, blood like rushing waters. Heart pounding like a bass drum as I march to the beat of the voices in my head telling me this is the end. Jagged rips in papers whose words are warped by the saltwater from ocean eyes. Fingerprint bruises on metal-scarred skin from hands I begged not to touch me. My voice is my tombstone and you have placed flowers in my throat, mourning a boy who died inside before anyone could breathe him back to life. Those rope necklaces hang lost in dead trees where you carved in the bark, "Rest in Peace."