Dreamer Turned Away

Pinpoint mockery
Can it be called a weapon?
Shouting, a retort?

I speak quietly
Till the day my voice heard
The volume turned up

Dissociative
I see your claws tearing you
I dreamt I could help

Yes, misunderstood
But layers double crossing
Make me doubt (by/of) whom

But crys for freedom
These ears are always tuned for
I wish it for you

Words come fast then slow
In emotion then logic
Echoed amplitudes

With little to hold
I try to craft these few words
In measured kindness

By request, ignored
I'll still hear when call is clear
Some corners are dark

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