First time

[Hannibal]

When you called for that very first time,
I knew your voice.
Distinct and sweetly cut from the noise,
that surrounded my aching ears.
But it has long since been absent from my life,
So much so,
That when I heard your structure,
Clambering to get to my ears through my phone,
I no longer knew who's voice I heard,
I could no longer distinguish from the noise.
All I could do was to ask,
My mind wept at the answer,
However elated my bodily manners seemed to be.
Your voice, my tears, our being,
forgotten in a sea of memories that have long washed ashore,
amidst a tremultous stint of stormy weather.
I'm afraid now.
Not for hearing your voice,
Or for having spoken with caring words so much,
But my inability to distinguish you.
For that I am afraid the storm battered too many memories,
Has left you mangled upon the sand.
As much as I want to tend to your needs,
your wounds,
I want to let you lay there,
and slowly decompose.
I'm torn again in life once more,
So I pick up the phone to hear the voice,
the music that has long been absent from these ears.

[Generalkaos]

Here is the thing (just bear with me, and I'll leave you alone, promise.) Your openining : "When you called for that very first time, I knew your voice," sort of illustrates everything that's going on here. Well, what I see in it is that you know her voice, but I don't. How do you describe it? How can you make me see and hear it?

[Hannibal]

I never realized.
Good point. I read through it again, as if I was someone who had never known her voice, as I have. You're right, I don't really explain it like perhaps, so you'd understand.
I'll try to revise this and get back to you.