the silence never bothered me before-
quiet between two so intertwined
is not uncomfortable like the silence
it is merely absence of sound
-but it bothers me now
all but consuming my mind

and i say nothing
and you say nothing
and everywhere there is nothing

i pray for the radio to work its charm
with those magic changes
give me a song to sing
give me anything
that would be better than this
small talk between two so intertwined

"you're awfully quiet," you say
and i say nothing
because my right brain has a lot to say
but my left brain knows not to say it

i want to say, "i know that you don't want me here"
the thought, clear like perfectly formed ice,
echoes through my mind:
(i know that you don't want me here,
i know that you don't want me here...)
somehow that is the one thing worse than
the deafening silence
because it's the truth
and we both know it

i want to scream, "can't you see i'm hurting?"
it's written all over my face
in smiles that don't reach my eyes
in lips joined in vowed silence

"i miss you," you say
and i say nothing
but i want to be the braveheart
and cry something bold, like
"if that is so then
how come when i'm here
your face is illuminated
by a phosphorescent glow?"
but i hold my tongue
i know my thoughts are wicked
yet they are my thoughts

and i say nothing
and you say nothing
and the silence says everything