Never Said

I wake hearing voices in the other room.

It’s a one sided conversation, no, it’s theatre.

Silent and still, I listen, body taut and ready to respond.

It’s not quite the news, and it’s without a sitcom’s interludes.

I’m not used to the sound, and realize its the television I’ve left on.

I’ve never allowed myself the luxury of this selfishness.

This indulgent reminder of the sounds of a family, the sound of fellowship from afar.

Overheard, because I had been tired and needed rest, confident they would be there when I woke,

Maybe at dinnertime, maybe in the still of an evening come to a close,

and it was bedtime again.

I know I have loved this sound.

I know I have missed this sound.

I know I fear a world without.

Yet this is the world I live in, and

I am reminded that, despite these things I know,

I am too often too quiet.

I know how many letters I've left unanswered,

How many postcards I’ve never sent,

How many words I’ve left behind,

And those that have remained.

Misunderstood.

Unnecessary.

Overlooked.

Slowly, silently, I rise to my feet,

And turn the television off.