Erin Curley
Feb 28, 2011

You,
are so loud.
That voice—
flat and forceful.
driving home your points
like a drunk
slamming his car
into my face.
I am right. here.

When we screamed,
couldn’t hear a word.
that silence used,
to rake in your breath
drowned everything.
My ears rang during those moments.
I knew someone, who,

took Quiet and would
stretch it out long enough so,
we could eat
a whole meal
Be just as full of words
as though we had fed
off a whole conversation.

And I know
that bird is long dead, Ma,
but I just can’t seem to
set it free

 
To comment on this poem, please log in or create a free account
Log in or register to comment