Speak, ******!

Your words lace up my veins giving me courage
to fight the shattered glassed wind
that peals me apart,

But your absence of words that propels between your lips
allows that sharpened sigh become wind
that makes my feet miss the ground.

Your silence crucifies the tunnels of my ears
that plead for a satisfaction to my thirst
whineing to be spoon fed with words given in droplets on a sponge.

What happened to the letters bleeding into words,
dictionaries of f'ing words, that dripped
from your mouth that perfectly iluminated me?

Anxious thoughts, a moaning stomach, and slippery hands
do not resonate together to complete a symphony of calm.
So say something,
anything.