Rather Be Crazy

You warn me
With your awfully silent
Whispers.
You show it
In your sick invisible
Smile.
I don't listen,
Though you're loud and clear.
I don't see,
Though you sit
Directly in front of me.
Somehow,
Your whispers echo
In the crowded hallways,
Although you've never said a word.
Somehow,
Your smile stains
Every sight I see,
Although I've never seen your face.
Something about those unheard words,
That unseen smile,
Entices me
And, yet,
The mystery frightens me away.
Maybe someday
Your voice will be audible;
Your smile will be visible,
Although that is not exactly
Something I hope for.
I want,
More, to know
That I'm not insane.
I wish to know
If the smile is just
A feeling
(Which is what I hope it to be),
Or if the silent echoes
Are possibly your voice
(Which I pray against).
Eitehr way,
I guess the conclusion
Makes me crazy,
But I'd rather be crazy
Than believe you exist.