this silence is the other sort.
not the silence of stillness born,
that meditative calm that washes
you when morning's light shyly
peeks through your curtains.

no, this is the malignant sort, an out of
control cellular growth that pushes out
other thought and claims the territories
of your mind all for himself.

this silence screams at you, "listen to me!"
and you can't do anything but hear his absent voice.

this is the silence that shoves his way into your brain
and demands attention, stamps his foot and shouts
"look at me!" and all you can do is stare at his
invisible face.

you wonder, "who are you, to invade my sanctuary?"

but then you remember, you left your key laying casually
on the window sill outside your door, red ribbon tied on,
an exclamation point.

no, you can't blame this silence.
you are the one who left the light burning in your window all night long.