Don’t mind me.
I’m only quiet cause I’m listening
I’m watching waters, watching carefully
I’m watching the sun set indefinitely
Take away
Just like the river pulls the leaves today
The leaves they float effortlessly
I wish that I could also float away
Watching me
To the days and the time
Just waiting for the nights to multiply
I’m waiting for the moon to tell me why
I’m at such a loss for words
I don’t understand why this river can’t just choose a path
they go different directions but to the same end
I can’t pretend
that I don’t just want to let it take me away.
Don’t notice me
I’m only quiet cause I have nothing to say
I’m just observing, watching mindlessly my thoughts escape. That make their way. Aimlessly.
The sky is dim and it's midday
A cloud threatens, rain
I'll hear others say:
"It's such a depressing day"
Wind gently floats through trees
Myself I've always loved a sky dark and grey  
There's a beauty in the quiet, in the stillness, in the storm
Strangers, friends, and family may naysay the day
But my soul is never quieter than on these type of days
I smile and wave
but not a single word came out
instead a moment of silence took over
I wish I was brave
And your name I could shout
but I couldn’t handle the exposure
I hate when I’m quiet.
Kat Pan Sep 2017
Socially impaired
though you may not be aware
View the chain of faces
they've never had a taste of
what it's like to be me
smaller than me
so much smaller than you seem
Conversations I keep debating
because of hope that I keep staging
All your insides
humanely deprived
heart depleting in size
lins 4d
a gorgeous flower
by the color blind man

forever passed over
like a single grain of sand

vivid color illuminates
free from man's manipulating hand
so much beauty in the unseen
Evening time blossoms
Trees darken against dim sky
Everything quietens
Stefania S Feb 12
birds take flight on a windowless night

but the crows

continue to gather

nosy beaked

wings, oil-streaked

they have no business among us

watching our eyes


silences our lies

and the den grows quieter


without the heat

stalking pointed feet

one falls prey 

after another

stolen eyes

long gone dry

the widow reaches for her master

gun in hand

sleeping sand

the crows do finally scatter
sarah Feb 11
it's hard not to punish the silence, I know; the sound of blood
pulsing in your veins is not a rebellion, though, and I'm sorry

if you feel that the only way to counteract the silence
is to scream -- not with your voice but with your eyes,

your hands, your eyebrows lifting up and down in time with
the tilt of your mouth, saying but not saying, "listen here,

this silence makes my ears itch"; but just take my hand
and I'll bring you to a place where the silence speaks, my dear,

where the giggling ponds ripple fondly and the amaranth flowers
sit by the edge, flowing in the wind that makes your blood sing;

so instead of punishing the silence, why not let it fill you up
until sound is just a whisper of yesterday?
run ons
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