Broken in Silence …
There is no love in the scrutiny of new strangers
No forbearance left in the coldness engendered
The honesty found is in the brushstrokes of painters
No struggles left in clashes already surrendered.
I’m through with spelunking in the caves of my soul
Scratching the ramparts where my blood used to flow
So here I am at the bottom with nowhere to go,
the place where my heart fell so far from the glow.
I saw in your face all the empathy draining
And there in its place was the apathy feigning
And right by my feet you’d have thought it was raining
Those tears an admission of my heart clearly straining
I know I can’t show you and I need to be strong
And I know my emotions need to pitter along
The air was still teeming with the things we’ve done wrong,
And on your bed was the vacuum of where I belonged.
So I waved a goodbye, my heart about to enfold
when it fell down the cavern, dejected and cold
So I’m tired of spelunking for a love rotted old,
and in need of a muffle, perhaps a blindfold—
and the substance for cruelty to harden my core,
to poison my bloodstream and wash it ashore
To linger no more in the tides slowly binding
And race up no more on the hills we were climbing.
The chalice is tipped and the love emptied out
I hid all my sorrows with innermost shouts
I yelled at the sunlight for bringing the day
the daylight of daytime where tears come to play.
In shades and confessions I fell to my knees,
and slipped to my bedroom entombed with unease,
I withdrew from this world, besieged from the grief,
where palpable gravity is affinity’s thief.
And stolen was time, like a clock hand removed,
removed from the body like a heart still unused.
A life held to light, refracting dissimilar truths
Every image of memory complete with the moods.
Bereft of our sunlight, refracting but none,
a hollow shell of pride entreating no reruns.
My grief was emptied on the rain starving grass,
the erosion was stilled, and my bourbon soul passed.
Everything was in stasis a house of unmoving
With love rendered helpless no substance for proving
And the blame leaves a cover like soupcons of dust,
which seeps through the pores, destroying the trust.
So the clean clothing piles and the food spoils quick,
with my tongue gushing fluids and my gut feeling sick.
I keep on pretending that nothing has happened
Again harden up, though my footing is cracking.