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Bruised Orange
Poems
Jan 2014
you can't blame this silence
This silence is of the other sort.
Not that 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,
(A Growth!)
that pushes out other thought
and claims the territories
of your mind all for
himself.
for himself.
This silence screams at you, "Listen to me!",
"Listen, now, lover!
And you can't do anything
but hear his absent,
his vacant,
that vacant,
that Voice!
This is the silence that shoves his way into your brain
and demands attention.
He stamps his foot and shouts
"Look at me!"
Are you looking?
And all you can do is stare at his
invisible,
His implacable
Face.
You wonder,
"Who are you, to invade
"my sanctuary?!"
But then it comes to you,
in that moment of
Reckoning:
You left your key laying
casually
on the window sill outside your door,
red ribbon tied on,
an exclamation point,
That mocking point!
No, you can't blame this silence.
You are the one who left the light burning brightly,
in your window,
that small, indescript window,
all night long.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SE_l1hLps1g&feature;=shareice.
Written by
Bruised Orange
United States
(United States)
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