CAN YOU HEAR ME?

Alone in the desolate midnight box
of suffocating quandaries,
anemic passions dream of transfusions
from sweet echoes of lover's lips
who are vaporized
when the alarm clock buzzer sounded.

Begging for a miracle,
one single hand that isn't conjured
while grasping the bed sheets,
imagining not being alone
and them wrinkled from intimate wrestling
instead of tosses and turns
from the burning gestures of pure hunger
eating at her soul
until feeling so hollow,
a naked shell ready to collapse into sea of tears
if asked the single question,
"what is wrong?"

Walking trough the myriads of flesh
inhabiting the concrete slabs of mercenary tyranny,
her eyes plead their misery in long deep stares,
hoping somebody will listen to her muted glaring screams,
just one precious heart to acknowledge
that she is not invisible nor worthless.

Waiting in her mummified inhibitions for that moment
when ears respond to her quest
which she has sought in all the strength
that her fears and timidity can allow to extend her feeble reach,
always wondering if somewhere in the maze of life,
someone will answer her unspoken question,
"can you hear me?"