interpreting silence

it is because I know
what you have done
and what more
you are capable of
that I now know
there is no excuse
possible or plausible
other than that
nothing is what
you want most
from me

you and words

life goes on just like before
contracts signed and others torn
though I rarely read a single line
like I did between yours
just to find I would be
the only one bound
to no gains
and expected to refrain
from expectations

I have no reasons only rhymes
to excuse the time I wasted
offering views to the blind
I preferred the words
and how they swirled
in my eyes and mouth
so much more than you

but without you they scatter
I’m adrift amidst a mist
of letters that refuse
to gather into clouds
and rain a relief
I can turn into words
to drown my fear
that you have all
I wish I did not need

trying to be

To roar, break, crash and thunder
like the clouds above
and let loose
what roils under
this skin too thin
to contain the blood
that looks to pound
against you

To be bright pink
not bloody bruised brown,
burnt, stubbed and rubbed
into the ground

To be rash
And willing to scratch
dreams hiding under scabs
And let them run freely
or float away like ashes
left to the wind

To be anything but quiet
stoic and contemplating
constantly placating
the urge to smash and run

reluctantly relieved

The heat warns of a meltdown
but I’ve knelt to its promises before
only to rise thirsting for a storm
of biblical proportions
It’s what it will take
to squelch this desire
for more than you can give

The clouds hang lower
than my expectations
for a revelation
to relieve this burning
But the sky raises only
a pacifist wind
resigning me
to rescind my declarations
and settle for
a gentle
cooling off

erroded

I’ve twisted tendons
and callused my soles
from searching to meet you
on softer terrain
I’ve tripped up my words
and torqued my soul
from trying to meet you
on higher planes

But you like to lie
close to the ground
to limit perspectives
to single use views

taper expectations
to scraps of paper
thrown clear of anticipation
And any yearning
they may birth
crawling, trawling
scraping up traces
that may promise more
than what has been earned.

So I’ll tear up my efforts
useĺessly sown
in barren dirt
devoid of worth
beyond burying hurt
And never again
set sights or foot
on this trodden plain

waiting

I want nothing more
than the possible
opportunity
for chance
and coincidence
to converge
into the unexpected
All that
you took
when you went away

fading

If you had died
I would have lied 
erased dull facts
to keep intact
the effigy I built
on faulty stilts
but you went away
and every day
I force fuzzy edges
to the middle
so I can fiddle my focus and find
some new detail
to impress my dreams
that lately only stream
repeats of chances gone by

that last declaration

You’re a hiccup
a glitch
a prickly itch
I make a last ditch effort
to scratch
But that was the last
phrase, lost in praise of
the last phase
the last breath
held and exhaled
my last affirmation
my last exhaultation
in mock exasperation
A concise expression
of my frustration
at all that could never be
So I’m forced to resort
to self-preservation
and grudgingly decree
Yes, I was only joking

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