Talking To My Echo

 Talking to my echo  

Is like throwing light  

Into a broken mirror

My voice comes back  

In pieces  

A syllable here

A breath there

A memory I didn’t mean

To wake

The room bends

The air flickers 

Even the silence

Seems to lean closer

I speak again  

And the echo scatters  

Rearranging itself  

Into versions of me  

I almost recognize

By the time it settles

I’m not sure  

If I’m hearing my voice  

Or the one  

I’ve been avoiding