They are the only ones who berate me. I am the only one who hears them. Two deafening whispers with quiet voices and booming words like a howl. Two who you cannot hear but are heard. Two looming voices with me always. From the middle of the loudest room, I can feel their words, but no one else will hear.

Their words are violent. They strike me with each breath. They whisper and they shout and scream at the earth with their quiet voices and booming words. This how they screech.

A forgotten thought is no defense against them, they’d return again, quieter with blaring words. Screech, screech, screech they whisper when I wake. They hiss.

When I am too weak and damaged to be heard, when I am too broken to be put back together, they find me. When there is nothing more to be said. Two whispers heard through the noise. Two who find me in the darkest of hours and never forget. Two whose purpose is to be heard by me and me only.