Bear Loa

(( Subtle theme is subtle. Not. ))

I’ve spent a long time trapped in my head. I listen, and I listen well, but my concerns, the deep, dark ones that need to be shared with those you love, those go unheard. It burns, and it stings, and it throbs and howls and whimpers in a mindless din that obliterates rationality, and no one is the wiser. Darma doesn’t know that I yearn for the company o f my own kind; that I still rage silently against the little things that I’m supposed to have forgotten. She doesn’t know that while I watch and observe and generally ignore the goings on in the wider world, my soul desperately wants to speak. Its words are dark and loathsome, and that, more than anything, frightens me.

I have a voice.