Echo Locator

My voice echoed off the

walls, bouncing back to me

in the unfamiliar, pleading

tones it apparently left with.

Is that how I sound?

That worried, tearful, lonely

sound? That’s my voice coming

back to me?

It can’t be. I’m cooler than that.

I’m semi-confident and sort of sure,

brave and good-hearted,

moral and kind, polite and

honest.

That can’t be my voice coming

back to me from the depths of

the darkness. It simply can’t be.

But there’s no one here to ask.

No one to hear my echo with me.

I got into this cave myself,

I didn’t ask anyone to come along

(Although, who was there to ask?)

It’s my fault. It’s my voice.  I followed

it in here.

I’m not alone.  My voice

comforts me, the two of us, in it

together, thick and thin, thick as

thieves, comrades, compatriots,

brothers in arms.

One can only laugh, sing, cry,

with their echo for so long however,

eventually, the voice tires and

quiets, and the listening for

new voices begins.

Something new, someone new,

a voice to shore oneself up,

to help hoist the burdens,

and illuminate a path through

the darkest corners.

Someone’s voice to overpower the echo.

Someone’s voice to shoo the dark.

Someone’s voice to stop the worrying.

Someone’s voice to dry the tears.

Someone’s voice to stop that lonely sound.

Someone other than me. 

Me…Me…Me… Me...