The words spill out of my mouth
in streams of neat, gold sentences
and heartfelt emotion
And I wait; relieved

The response
is usually silence
from any failed sentiment
to my despair

"Oh"
the most common
the sharpest knife
of them all

Or a nod
which stings even more
so intensely
that my eyes begin to sweat

And so I retreat
into the comforting silence of pretend
pretend that I am alone
which would be a million times better

Yet they wish to know the whisper-worthy
they want to know the reason
and either I give or I don't
but either way
Its futile