I'll never forget the day you stopped speaking.
It has remained in my memory for as long as I can remember.
You were bawling because your throat ached.
Your voice came out in a hoarse whisper one last time before you
never once opened your mouth again.

I sometimes blame myself for your silence.
I've made you angry, upset and miserable
to the point where you lost your voice, or rather
your voice deserted you.

So why don't you hate me?
Why don't you avoid my gaze?
Could there still be love left inside of you?

My dear, don't take  any offense to this, but I like it better this way.
Your silence speaks to me in a way your voice never could.
It seems as though we have a better understanding.
There is no more yelling, no more broken glass on the floor,
no more insensitive words.
There is only peace.

Sometimes, the best form of communication is the one that does not require words.