The silence is
Malignantly comfortable,
As each sand grain
Takes its place
As the wind whips
Against my face
And makes my heart
Take a somersault…
Simple acceptance
Has its own way
Of hurting the center
Of your existence.
I didn’t know that
Until you were made to
Pass by without a glance
That you ached to
Throw my way…
Little beads of moments,
Little pearls of tears,
Little dews of sweat
And tiny specks of fears,
Donned with uncertainty –
All have frozen to form
The petals that remain
Of the drowning rose.
Swirls of smoky fog
Veil those eyes that once
Failed to look away from you ~
Not because they can’t
Condense and liquify the pains,
But because they refuse to,
Just so the malignantly comfortable
Silence continues…
~November 27th, 2012
~ sana rose~
