and although I know it shouldn't,
I am worried that
each passing day,
I have less and less words to say,
and mostly to you,
as such, our conversations are
limited to how-are-yous - nothing more
even then I don't anticipate your replies
like i used to
What's there to look forward to
when silence is better?
It no longer bogs me, too,
to imagine you with someone else.
In fact, I'd encourage you to
as though a burden will be lifted
off my shoulders one last time
for you won't look for me,
for in doing so, you'll breach a wall of
silence,
a wall I have hanged pictures of
perfect solitude
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