Requiem for a queer

Wednesday, July 06, 2005

Blind

Are you able to see a sound? Not at all.
So, He will never see me.
I'm a voice, turning over pages fingers, steps around the room. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Even if I would shout all my frustration it would be the same thing: just a sound, melting with the city noises.
I'm tired. I feel demotivated, demoralised and worthless.
Gosh, it would change if only He would deem me worthy of a glance.
Impossible.
You can't see a sound.