silent hour

stethoscope

can you hear me?

would you change it all for another chance at this life?

it is quiet over here.

my words are drawn out and i can't figure out why.

echoed through what i thought i once felt,

i was promised doom and yet i found the opposite in the gaze.

stethoscope

tell me, is it quiet where you are too?

where a sign of spring can signify another meeting?

the narrative is flawed.

we are only meant for what we pursue;

quietly.