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THE SILENCE STINGS
THE SILENCE STINGS
This silence stings
it touches and fools with me so deeply
the painful resounding ringing
humming to me of this
atrocious internal loss
I'm trying to find my way through twisted hells gates
no glow, glimmer, or gloss
frozen streets lay before me
I slip and trip myself up
the scratching and scraping away
I'm crunched and reconfigured
near now, so near to the ending
another beginning in and of itself
into mesh and painful piercing light
gropes for me and
this silence stings
cringing and cradling myself
I fantasize of freedom
from this hateful plight
but no, not again, not tonight
with this blackness enwrapping and enraging
my unfound mark-less stance
