Anything can sound like a voice if you need to hear one –
kitchen white noise – the refrigerator humming,
creaks in the plumbing are less scary if you long for just someone
(anyone?) to hear you (maybe I heard footsteps on a creaky floor).
A distant drip, drip, drip, like tapping fingers, (a hand to hold?). The tree outside your window sounds vaguely like fingers folding
into a knock – you should curl under bed sheets, but what if human
knuckles made the sound (perhaps it’s someone to let in).
Interlaced in music, someone calls your name (or I’d better check
at least) but press pause and it’s only silence that flaunts
its deadly claws. Hidden in the rain are tiptoes tap dancing
on gravel, so maybe I’ll talk to them – the invisible dancers
on the roof – they’ll listen (or I’ll just talk to myself).
Lauren Kathleen 