© 2000 Tanya Cropper
The sound is faint, a soft clicking noise, coming from far away.
Sort of like the spike of a high heel tapping a long a stone walk and yet it doesn’t progress, it doesn’t recede.
The sound is a constant, echoing in my ears.
I look for it source, searching….
I know it is there, I can feel it.
It’s presence comforting, and yet annoying.
There is a part of me that wants it to cease.
To stop the tortuous drumming.
Another part of me fears the quiet.
It echoes in my ears, my head, my soul.
The tapping, the beating
always there… sharing my life.
Only I can feel it. Only I can touch it…. hear it.
Only I can love it, as it is my heart.