The Empty Sound- A Poem

I can hear it.

I can hear all things

I always have and

I wonder if you can hear them too.

I heard your laugh that broke through walls

I built with the intent they never come down

They towered.

They stood.

They were as thick of the crust of the earth.

They would’ve been perfect

I think

At the very least they would’ve done their job

But the man I am has never been quite

The one I’ve always wanted to be

So for every wall that went up,

For the promise I tried to make myself make

I built a door deep in the stone of the man that I was

And on every door was a lock without purpose

A lock left hanging

Dangling

Rusted metal resting on rotting wood

And I told myself it wouldn’t matter

I said that, twice and then once again,

I said “These are walls. My walls.

I know what this means

And I swear I won’t let them ever get in.”

But I did.

I think it should be said “Of course I did.”

Because for all my fear of failure

For the sadness that built like walls the man I am

I knew I never once had it in me

Not ever

To lock myself so tightly in

A world that was a spot for me

A coffin in which to rest alone

Someplace so far from old new pain and

So far from every bit of what hadn’t been.

And I think, if I had been vigilant

I think, if to my own self I’d remained true

I just might have always been safe there

And the walls would’ve done well what walls do.

Would I have been happy?

I don’t know. Not really.

But then I suppose I’m not happy now

Not in the space reserved here just for me

A useless fortress with open doors swinging free

In the silence

In the wind

In the things they all say make no noise.

And they always told me you can’t hear a smile

They said there’s no sound to accompany

The way your eyes shine with great joy

Or the way you move when you’re happy

When you’re content

When you’re at ease

But I know they’re great peals of thunder

And I know they’re greater rushes of wind

That will keep open doors swinging open

And held

In a wall that’s had the important parts

Punched in.

I wish I didn’t hear it all the time

I wish I didn’t know the sound your smiles make

But I do

I always will

And it’s the sound of great stone walls when they break.

I imagine I’ll have to repair them now

I imagine I’ll have to now find the lost tools

That I never once in my life thought I’d need once again

What was made had been made so tall

But isn’t that the humorous joy in existence

The joke

And your laugh

That sometimes great happiness can end in nothing at all.