Sound.
If only there were sound.
You have grown weary of words
And all I want is an explosion.
Sound,
Make a sound-
I’ll listen to the notes and crescendo and rubato
Of your voice
If only you would speak
If I must scream until your ears go numb
And unfold my anger in a river thicker
Than molten lava, I will singe your skin
Until you listen-
Sound.
Just a word,
Just a chord
Just a plea, if it must be
And perhaps we can stitch the threadbare seam
That now divides us.
I no longer understand the twist of your shoulders
Or the angle of your eyelashes
Like I once did.
*You can whisper.
You can wait.
Please,
Don’t be afraid.*
Or else the silence will one day
Break me
Nov 13, 2011
Nov 13, 2011 at 11:53 PM UTC
Sound.
If only there were sound.
You have grown weary of words
And all I want is an explosion.
Sound,
Make a sound-
I’ll listen to the notes and crescendo and rubato
Of your voice
If only you would speak
If I must scream until your ears go numb
And unfold my anger in a river thicker
Than molten lava, I will singe your skin
Until you listen-
Sound.
Just a word,
Just a chord
Just a plea, if it must be
And perhaps we can stitch the threadbare seam
That now divides us.
I no longer understand the twist of your shoulders
Or the angle of your eyelashes
Like I once did.
*You can whisper.
You can wait.
Please,
Don’t be afraid.*
Or else the silence will one day
Break me
