The likeness of snow-covered heaps on desert-searing nights Of a scathing wind that cursed a name and brought it By the crook of a deserted nest sunbathed by bare hands, Seducing a whistle to the primeval waters that shoehorn rocks Reflected with an awakening flutter within a cold room With lip of ice and loitering hill sides by a pale tide, blistering with mercy;
Word count: 145
Warning: A lot of sadness
Silence is golden,
Silence is precious,
Silence keeps me safe.
My mind is a void,
An overflowing, overthinking
Boisterous void which comforts me,
Consoles me, builds me up and
Breaks me down, exploits my fears,
Beats me within an inch of my soul
In one second.
And yet, my mouth can’t form the words
I desperately want to say,
It stutters, it hesitates,
It remains silent.
The words remain in my mind,
Only released on paper
Or Microsoft Word..
The silence is maddening.
It is not golden or precious,
It harms me instead of protecting me –
It screams in my mind yet
Refuses to let even a hum escape.
Please, please set me free
From the bonds of your cruelty,
For once let me say what’s on my mind
Without fear of judgment or disappointment.
I’d do anything to get…
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It is memory.
I kneel towards thin estuaries and darken the shawl with pearls
The northern river kneels, beating pearls,
As the shawl darkens in the ghoul of silence in the wind.
You fear the wind,
You fear the chance,
You fear plagues and of death;
Little auspicate, you’re winded, and drenched
By son of Ares and Aphrodite,
A little auspicate, therefore dreamt the worst;
For that estuary wept, with its mouth tapering, Tapering into wrinkled sheets and disturbing, Disturbing the transgressions of sense (and sense display us)