Whisperings

The truth is like the bottom of a well, dark and impossibly deep.
It seeps slowly, echoing the unexamined lives of people.
Yesterday, you casually avoided a cat's stare; the air was thick with unspoken words.

Part of you wonders why you feel tethered to routine.
You need to peel back fences around your heart but knowing bruises run deeper than skin.
Wake up. Still late.