Cotton Sailboats

The sound of your voice,
it tears my ears off,
scrapes across my ear drums,
I just want out of here,
away from your voice,
I can’t get out,
I know I can’t leave.

Writing of your voice,
I hope you don’t see,
trouble heads my way,
then recedes again,
I hope it doesn’t return.

The sailboats on your shirt,
pretend that you are calm,
maybe they try to keep you docile,
doesn’t look like it’s working,
as you walk closer,
my heart rate doubles,
the trouble returns,
I try to cover up what I say,
about you and your voice,
and cotton sailboats.