Out loud...

Whispers seem quiet, yet they scream in your ear. So loud, you are deafened with sound. We go on in this life keeping everything so low key, so hush hush, that sometimes we become an open book. Our pages flip at their fingertips, our edges bend when they want to remember. We think we control us, that we control the base. What good does it do? What good can it do? Our lives are run by their rules. Our secrets are piercing loud, ripping silence into crumbs. We are just specks at the end of the day. We remain quiet so they can hear us shouting. We look away just to make eye contact with guilt. We sigh so softly, just to cry it out. We show the cleanliness just to be stained with hate. What good can we do? Not much, you see. We are secrets that are raped by ears, abused by tongues, and whored by lips. We are so loud. Out and about, no matter how buried we remain.