Losing My Hearing

The room starts to spin.
My mind begins to wander.
Tears roll down as my heart begins to ache.

Slowly, the darkness arrives,
yet rapidly, the light surrenders.

Does anybody hear me?
Because I wish I could shut myself off.

Does anybody hear me?
Because the list of unanswered messages
is getting longer.

Does anybody hear me?
Because the list of answered phone calls
is getting shorter.

Does anybody hear me?
Because I don’t.

I lost my hearing long ago—
with all the lies coming from my friends,
lies from my family,
with all the lies coming out of me.

Does anyone really tell the truth?

Does anybody hear me?
Does anybody hear me?
Does anybody hear me?

I’m going down.

People have the courtesy to say,
“Yeah, I hear you,”
but not the courage to say,
“I’m listening.”

They have the courtesy to say,
“I’m here,”
but only as long as
it doesn’t take
too long.

Will somebody please hear me?
Will somebody hear me?
Will somebody hear me?

But they won’t.
But they won’t.
But you didn’t…