the silence comes upon me

silence from anger—silence from bewilderment—silence from my confusion at not knowing how to act

around people who know me and love me

who i do not love back

who (in my book) dont know how to feel

(like its my place to judge)

silence triggering me from the edges into a ball of exalted laughter—silence tempting me to say nothing when someone close to me asks me a question—silence whose end is murder of you (in my mind) murder of your idle murder of my supposed spirit—murder of the hate idea—murder of your stupid words (your mumble) and what am i from greatness ?? what am i to think of you to write about you in the night—why would my thought matter if yours never did ??

silence

comes upon me

like a devious child


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