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Kay Rocha Aug 2020
Silence.
We sit in stillness with our thoughts.
Conflicted.
Emotions running rampant.
High.
Out of control.
You were better- you were happy.
You were the man that I fell in love with again.
For that sweet everlasting second I saw a glimpse of that man.
If I had known I would’ve stopped.
For you.
But now that’s not something I can do.
Silence.
Uncertainty filling the air between our touch as we lay on opposite sides of the bed.
I see this shell looking back at me and my heart is sore.
Silence.
Saddened to see you like this.
I missed you for so long.
I’m sorry that I couldn’t-
Or wouldn’t, be strong.
I thought we could go back.
We can’t.
Silence.
Have you ever realized how it makes the air thick?
The anxiety that lingers like lint from the laundry.
How damp and humid it becomes?
Wondering who and when the other will spill their souls.
Silence.
I can’t even hear you breathe anymore.
Only the sound of my own shaky breath ticks the time away.
Holding back the tears.
Four years,
And silence is what sits between us.
Kay Rocha Aug 2020
She's an artist.

A painter to be exact.

Connecting darling dots along her veins.

She's an actress.

The Queen of little lies.

Her best performance is to herself, pretending everything's alright.

She's the guardian.

Stashing away all the pain.

She puts it in a box never to be touched again.

She's all alone.

She sits in heavy silence.

And never speaks a single word.

— The End —