In reconciliation with my own contemplation, I have to say that, life is taking me down a peg.

But I’ve tried to make the best of it, what’s left of this, a quiet voice that’s too easy to dismiss, fades into nothingness in the presence of absent love.

But it’s enough to know my thoughts are mine to keep. So when I try to speak them, rhymes come out in rhythm as a way to be defensive, dismissively accounting for every word I’m doubting, so I seem less apprehensive.

But I feel the weight of silence sometimes too much to be quiet, inner thoughts get violent when saying things I m dealing with.
“We’ve clipped your wings, it’s happening, this life’s just passing you by. We know it stings, it’s sad to see, so why do you ever try?”

So I write them down to get them out, here in the open. It’s what I’ve found to deal with bouts, of depression as I’m coping. But I show these words to those I love, and rejection is expected, so when it’s all been said and done, silence is all I’m left with.