Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

Perhaps my silence is from the emotional struggle I previously experinced in my younger years.

I remember the days of being in a facility for the lesser knowledgable, smaller individual's.

Grade 5, for I still remember the person, who I now regret to call my friend, who had hurt me enough to cease my vibrancy. 

He was talkative, a jokster of sorts, yet for some unknown purpose, he lived to rip and tear my energy.

I considered him my close companion, my younger, less knowledgeable mindset had led me to think I deemed it a necessity to keep him a friend.

At our times of arguments, our disagreements, all of them, he seemed to point the finger at me.

The miniscule of differences, a spark of rage would erupt within him, the soul sucking finger aimed at my skull organ.

Yet, if I ceased our companionship, water would erupt from his optics.

He would fall into a dust bowl of sorrow.

I forgave his actions, forgiving seemed to be a curse.

For he only continued the same thing, the smallest arguments and the finger, the blame, the hatred, the god dann anger, the pettiness that stared me down as I struggled to see what I had done wrong, for gods sake, had crushed my skull organ to bits.

Forward into time, I met the silence and she and I enjoyed each others company. 

Perhaps, that may be the reason of my long marriage to silence.

Perhaps, that trauma maybe why I sit alone within myself.

Yet, the motion that stands is that such an experience with an evil being has thrown my skull organ in the wrong direction of thought.