i don’t know how

I don’t know how
to get to you,
where you are buried 
invisible and small.
Your voice not a whisper,
but the perfect volume
oh, despite what
the other voices say.

Your opinions are
bottled, sealed.
Do you know them?
Hear them?

I will dig here
in this hard ground
because I miss you,
miss remembering you.

In this place
where lie the 
consequences of a
quietly silenced heart.

This post appeared originally at jenniferjcamp.com