I do not wish to make your name my trade

Or envy words that you utter

I do not wish to hang a story I have woven

Or tarnish a scene from a movie I have seen.

No, I do not wish to make you the third voice in my head

For more voices than one is crowded.

Or the little beat which dances and skips every now and then;

the turbulence upsets my rhythm.

I do not wish to grasp the reality you dress

Nor listen to your sweet little lies

For we all lie, dear sir, but your lies, unintentional or not, blew frost on my cheeks.

A different kind of shiver,

A shiver unwanted, sad, succulent,  and dry with cold.

No, they are not yours, Sir.

That voice is not yours,

That image not owned by you

That lie is not yours

The shiver was simulated by you

When you borrowed what was not yours to own.

As I accept it from you, the voice inside my head trembles.

And I ignore it.

So now, I have a message for you.

A message with no futile words.

A message with no tone, for my voice is not fit for song.

A message with feeling, just like the movies

A message, insistent, silent, soft

A message without a receipt


But where to begin dear sir

Words of lamentation do no good-

Especially those uttered with no conviction.

So I have nothing to say to you

No words to tell you

No gestures, or gesticulation, no utterances or hesitations, no remedies or accusations, no solutions, no suggestions


I do not need your promises when you have none.

Your explanations and your excuses are all the same and one

I do not need your soothing words of comfort

Or the shine in your eyes and the faint smile on your face

Those that seem to tell me I should be happy to be loved by you, to be liked by you,

Lucky now to befriend you

I have voices of my own Sir,

I have voices which made you-

a heart which feigned you

I have voices of my own dear sir, inside my head within my every thought and being, I have a lover of my own, another.

I have reflected myself in your mind’s eye, a sullen narcissism of my own which does not belong to you and is mine.

We are mirrors reflected – me.

For the first time in my life I lifted the reign off my emotions, my passions, my intellectual orgasms which we together have named, and places we together have possessed.

For the first time in my life dear, I lived the movie I loved and the book I sought to write, I constructed the places I would like to own, and uttered the conversations I lived within.

Beware, sir, for I am no victim nor do I seek to become. I will not wear the guise of the wretched.

I have a message with no receipt.


I have made perfect an image and I do not blame you for shattering it.

I do not blame you,

I do not blame you for unstopping the cork mid way, the liquid seeped in showers from off the bottle’s neck the bubbles drop dead droplets on the tip of the glass.

I do not blame your urges and sensations, your demons and your passions, I do not mourn a loss, for the world is round.

I ask the voice in my head to forgive me.

I lower my guard

I awaken what I have relegated as dormant

I lower my guard and I ask the voice inside my head to forgive me

I have more names than one to call it

But it only answers to one

I have more names than one to identify it

But it only identifies with one.

As I personalize it

As I humanize it

As it takes form and shape




It speaks,





I shiver and I shudder as I listen.

Dear sir, it is I who have wronged myself

I sit and ask the voice in my head to forgive me

And it nods from the distance as it draws near

And near

And closer

It sips my cup of coffee

And drowns my shame in black