When I was your voice,
I never hesitated
to tell you what was wrong.
You could not deny the songs
containing all there was to say,
all the things that you must do
even if you didn’t want to.
I was a dreamer and a liar.
You can’t forget the words
I spoke into your eyes.
I was a liar and a seer,
yet you heard honest prophecy.
Even now, you hear those melodies.
That’s why we’ll never ever end.
That’s how I’ll be always with you.
When you say – oh please say –
a little morning prayer
you’ll hear those simple songs again.
You’ll tongue-tie our hands together
and we’ll sing and pray those songs again;
those sacred, scary songs again.
Jason Preu 
Would you share inspiration for this poem?
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Of course! Inspired by hearing old recordings of myself and linking that to that constant story you tell yourself about yourself and how you might feel if you only recognize the slimmest of through lines…
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also feel free to not share
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👍👍
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