Silence

 

Silence as a morgue

surrounds me,

the void in chorus’s of care

amid the chatter of family

who speak as if I’m not there,

shallow meaningless words

detached of affection,

cold and indifferent,

leaving their sting upon my mind.

 

I plummet into the chasm,

crippled heart and dying spirit,

filleted of laughter,

love’s pauper,

faceless and forgotten vagabond

in the home that I own.

 

Rummaging through the ruins

of my castles,

trying to remember the reflection

that once I saw in the mirror

before the sounds filled with cruelty

emaciated my portrait.

 

Finding refuge in a corner of my head,

knowing no one will come to see anyway,

they’ll be off pretending

this house is really a family.

 

Quiet  brings its own peace

like a sleep

after being violated,

its muted calm

never truly removes

the desire to listen

for healing words

that remain unspoken.