Silent Treatment
I know, my dear,
it isn’t fair,
my silent treatment,
my persistent pressing
of the mute button
on my voice box.
But there is nothing left
in this heart for you
to fuel the speech centers
in my brain;
there is nothing left at all,
and I can’t even grant you that,
for my voice fails every time
I muster up the courage
to give an honest try.
I wish you’d just leave,
go on without me,
for I’ve made it this far alone.
You can’t make me right,
for I’ve always been okay
with being wrong,
for notoriously
being with people
who hurt me,
whom I hurt,
and whom I can never
quite have.
I’ve said it all before,
and I am saying it all once more:
You cannot save me,
you cannot save anyone,
especially those
who do not believe
they need a savior.
If you could be so kind
as to match my silence
with your own,
I will eventually fade away
from your short-term memory.
I do not love you;
I never will,
so please,
I beg you,
please,
just let me go
in peace.
Silence paints the morning
in shades of solace,
though hues of sleep evade
her drooping lids;
today, she will
carry on.
Sometimes, I Just Don’t Know What To Say.
Those moments when the silence is so thick, it stifles the life-giving oxygen, and I choke. Not enough air to breathe; there’s never enough when the ghosts of the unsaid are on the prowl. Those times when words are required, but none come.
It’s haunting how much I’m affected by the sadness painted upon your face when all I can do is gawk, and gag on the things we’re not saying.
Sometimes, I Just Don’t Know What To Say.
Those moments when the silence is so thick, it stifles the life-giving oxygen, and I choke. Not enough air to breathe; there’s never enough when the ghosts of the unsaid are on the prowl. Those times when words are required, but none come.
It’s haunting how much I’m affected by the sadness painted upon your face when all I can do is gawk, and gag on the things we’re not saying.
Sometimes, I Just Don’t Know What To Say.
Those moments when the silence is so thick, it stifles the life-giving oxygen, and I choke. Not enough air to breathe; there’s never enough when the ghosts of the unsaid are on the prowl. Those times when words are required, but none come.
It’s haunting how much I’m affected by the sadness painted upon your face when all I can do is gawk, and gag on the things we’re not saying.
Let silence ring
as true as speech;
it speaks louder
than any words
you’ve ever heard.
Just don’t forget
to open up
and listen when
the voices stop.
Silence is a crafty killer.
She builds and builds until she bursts
right out of your body with so much
force, she often takes you
with her.
Silence is a crafty killer.
She builds and builds until she bursts
right out of your body with so much
force, she often takes you
with her.
I am sinking silently;
no one can hear me,
for I muffle my own screams
with the bandanna tied around
my chapped, bitten lips.
