"The cruelest lies are often told in silence."

Robert Louis Stevenson






"

On days like this

When it feels as though

The air is interwoven

With the misery of us

I cannot stand to listen

To this attentive silence

That holds onto my pores

And makes me shiver in disdain

My mind does not wish

To hear the truth that is absorbed

In this environment

As we play, hide and seek

From each others eyes

Refusing to admit that we know why

It has come to this

The moments where we cannot seem to sit

In the same room

Because to breathe the same air

Would mean that we would choke

On the stench of our secret desires

To walk away from what used to be so important

Muted minutes pass us in this submissive silence

Waiting in the wings

For the courage to let go

But it never seems to find us

As the years come and go

With each chime of the hands of time

We play the game of make-believe

Where hands brush

Against quiet silence…uncomfortable and unwanted

Causing bodies to recoil in disgust

In the dead of the night

Manipulating ourselves into believing

In the dogmatic silence

Where love or something like it

Prevents us from walking away and

Though enough is said about it

You wish there was more to say

To break this wall of emptiness

In your own thoughtful silence while

Wallowing and preparing for the worst

As you fight with the shadows in your head

You are in a deadlock with your emotions

But you reach out anyway

Because his face still looks like no other

And some days

When it feels like a memory

You get lost in the meditative silence

That takes you back to the beginning

When each other was all you needed

When one touch could move heaven and earth

And the beauty of your souls uniting

Was as magical as the waves kissing the sand

A comforting silence

No words could describe it

No lie could deny it…

Then night turns to dawn

The dream ends and

You find yourself

Hoping that these loud screams

Of emotional silence

Will soon subside

Before it kills you both with its bare hands

How easily it is for love to be lost

In a dispute

When no one breaks communicative silence

Because pride is waiting for someone

To say something

Or not …





untouchedsoul2008