Silence, I have broken. The sky refuses to hold, the skin of heaven cracks to reveal beauty in breaking - what less you expect? The beauty is the light before the rainy fall. The conspicuous stillness before rain, heavy in the air; a premonition that is almost always too late. In all event, too short.
In a malaise, the whole world turned its back to me. Before which, I imploded, and implored for a glance from an eye. My entreaty spurned. She said, "Move on". No, she didn't mean to quit, but to pick up the pieces. All shattered, moon-shiny, skull bits. "People will forget. It takes time.", she consoled. For how long? In all event, too long.
I know it was under a most difficult, testing circumstance for her. Less for me.
Silence, I have broken, when I imploded, and allowed emotion to rain. Harder than it should be. I broke a self, as a consequence. Not just the one in the mirror. The one in the mirrors in people I see most days.
Now, with words, again. I broke. My silence. Hoping to find refuges. In between lines.
You are confused? You are to be confused.
Now, silence is good. Silence is sweet.