My voice to you!

My voice doesn’t reach you there 
But I know you hear it 
My screams get numbed 
But I hope my silences scrape you 

a forlorn attempt to hold you 
a whimsical endeavor to outgrow you 
my memory poisoning my dreams 
your absence obscuring my senses 

when sunlight enters, I see 
the bright light mocking me. 
A voice always calling out to you 
doesn’t matter it’s day or at night 

Morning is meant to illuminate 
not to succumb to dark. 
Collecting souvenirs of wretched soul  
my voice eventually chokes to death.