silence

i never have quite enough silence
what with the clutter of thoughts
and eternal lists to be wiped clean.

silence
has a place
only among the tangible living.

it can be nice on sunday mornings, in bed.
it is a monster / tool
when deliberate
or when counted as self-absorbtion

ex-lover silence is the worst absence of all

i have no way of communicating my meaning in coherent ways.

distilled idiot

unfortunately have
"made him responsible"

familiar feelings of panic:
crystallic, lucid and naked
utterly uncovered and disdained

things you should know not to say,(but i thought it was valid
and his actions hurt my feelings)

according to girls with rings on their easily pleased/placated finger

(but all i want to know is if he still makes me happy)

the other side of the ring calls for blood and vindication,
"he clearly doesn't give a shit"

(well, i thought he did once.
why did it stop?)

Blonde girls usually have the answer; stand up for yourself
I feel so valid

and so i accuse
but he came in armed
and piercing



all I want was to see
if I still make him happy