Silence
is not a weapon
that I level against you —
to assail you, whether
with passivity or aggression,
is beyond me.
Not a weapon,
but a window.
Thin though it must always be,
I struggle to hold it open,
to frantically seek
every second that I might salvage
from the burning wreckage of a question
aimed at me,
soaked in desperation,
and in love, like gasoline.
What did you mean?
How did you come upon
all of that fear?
You think I didn't hear,
or that I've chosen to ignore
you at your very most vulnerable.
But before I can speak, you see,
I must choose my words with care.
There, in the gravity of the moment,
I become lost.
I stare, as one who sees across galaxies
but cannot find my answer.
Though I never meant to,
I've left you to hang in the
silence.
About the Creator
Jacob Sherman
The desire to read, and perhaps to write, should be cultivated and nurtured with care throughout every stage of life. For my part I will inject what strangeness and truth that I can into our written history. Expect no constants but honesty.
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Heartfelt and relatable
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Comments (1)
Excellent! Very strong wording, I love this poem