Saturday, May 28


The way I don't talk
is just a burden to you
though it probably emerged
from the wish of just the opposite;
never to be a burden at all
proving ineffective as you
tell me about giving and receiving
and leave me with the accusation
of never having given anything at all

The way I don't ask questions
is just tiresome to you
I'm just afraid of the rudeness
and offense that so often appears
hand in hand with all the questions
I prefer to leave unasked
you used to tell me everything
and all I had to do was listen
now all there is is heartbreaking silence

The way I don't explain
is of course confusing you
because my hopeless silence
is, in the end, crushing you
forcing you to leave,
begging me to stop you,
standing in the way even of my
saying goodbye to you
driving you further with simple quietude

The way I just stand there
accepting your wrath
taking whatever shit you throw
not even lifting an eyebrow
the shifty eyes, the stupid smile
is now, more than ever,
what it was not supposed to be
the reason you're leaving
- for the sake of silence I am losing you

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