I wish I felt as loved as they say I am.
You can tell me you love me every single day...
hour...minute....second...
every interval and space between
But as cliché as it may be
Actions speak louder than words

At the top of your lungs you could scream
use all your force, explode with "I love you"
But if you silently brushed the hair from my face, breathing softly as you did
It would be so much clearer.
He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.

Holding hands is noiseless. Nothing but the
pulse
between our fingers beating in unison.
Silent to all but the minuscule space that exists between our flesh.
And still it makes a bigger sound than your
melodic laugh of "you're perfect."

If you want to make me feel loved,
show it.
Words are too easily lost.
Noise pollution.