Posted: January 27, 2012 in My Poetry

Silence is the worst of it;
not really silent at all.
Static echoes blurring by
ears too shocked to hear.

Where voices once laughed
dark silence holds firm
like the black leather
gloves of a killer,
one hand held hard over mouth
while the other crushes your throat.

Loud, popping silence
as you fade from yourself.
It’s just your brain imploding.

All sharp edges,
your days on earth
turn inward and attack.

They were always there,
some forgotten;
bitter shards of youth

twisting inside you,
a serrated blade
searching for your heart.

When, at last,
the knife discovered
there was no heart to wound,

it found your mind instead.
Plenty there to snicker-snack

but silence found me


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