If you don’t understand my silence, you will not understand my words.

If you don’t understand my silence, you won’t understand my words

It’s yesterday that I cry
the past, the fragile droplet
that slithers down my cheek.
A tear, not clear
but red and grey and blue,
with blood and shadows and bruises -
a hardened rock
straight from the heart.

It’s the product of silence
and caught up words
in a tangled web of fear.
A silent war without swords
but guns loaded with shards
of a death cloaked heart
that forgot how to beat.

It’s a cloud of unknown
where even crows don’t fly
but their cackles ring throughout.
A lonely place
of dark and dampened mist
that drapes over you
but inside your head,
and it fills your brain
where no one else can see.

It’s a puppet show
with white faced dolls
and fake red smiles.
A false reality
with plastic masks
and unseen controlling strings,
from which you can’t just escape
as they become your soul.

It’s the dark secret of my heart.
It’s the curse of my mind.
It’s the strain on my soul.
It’s the tear in my eye.
But it’s why I am who I am,
It’s why I know I’ll never understand.

If you don’t understand my words, you won’t understand my silence