Sometimes silence
can be
the most disquieting
thing in the world.
it has rude hands
that just reach
into your soul
and violently robs you
of your peace
with utter disregard
to the umbilical cord
connected to it
or what fragile
artworks or timepieces
are poised on top of it
leaving you bleeding
leaving you with nothing
but broken parts
and that silence
the kind that
can get unbearably loud
and cause riots in the heart

does not always mean
have you ever thought
that maybe it’s not true
that I don’t care?
that maybe
I care too much
to say anything?
that maybe
I’m stuck in Purgatory
and I don’t do it
because it’s easy
but because
its make-believe security
is all I could afford
when closure
is too much to ask for?
that maybe
I keep my distance
because there are no words
in any language
to describe the pain
of loving you?
that maybe
my jealousy of her
is so profound
it exists without
making a sound?

and sometimes
complete silence
the silence between strangers
can be the most incomplete
state of being
the kind of
suffocating emptiness
that spends its days
desperately wanting
mutely screaming
for the silence
to be broken
by you