it wasn’t silence exactly,
his “I don’t know’s”,
nor were they words of optimism,
promises of intent, of partnership

they pressed against me like lead,
those words of indifference,
a mirror reflecting myself back to me,
the voice in my head louder than the silence in the room



the words blurred into one another,
every yellowed page like the one before,
every phrase becoming more foreign,
each syllable more severe

so, I walked away;
I sank into the wordless sea,
sight distorted,
down to where the light
was but a glimmer up above,
where the cold encased me,
a soothing balm against the burning
of the sun

I sank into the wordless sea,
enamored by the consuming silence,
by the thrum of my own heart,
a metronome for the endless swaying

I sank into the wordless sea,
but I was not drowning

I heard the sound of my own voice

-artwork via Pinterest, by Jael Segura; written in response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie First Line Friday, where the first line is provided, and you must devise the rest


it closes in on you, the silence,
the pressure of it robbing all the oxygen,
absence coaxing a primal voice to arise that is something no one can imagine until it’s heard

twisting and splintering as it rises,
it’s wicked tongue lies to you,
convincing you, corrupting things,
loading itself with shrapnel from dark crevices and welding it all together into sharp ammunition

it fires and fires, stealing from you,
leaving you without a single word of comfort

only smoke, wafting in its wake

-image via Pinterest