Sunday, November 30, 2008


i am inundated
with silence. blank pages
scream their accusations, beg
for a passion it seems i've
somehow buried, stifling myself
in order to tamp down the riot
in my mind.
bombed to resume peace
and order, and so i kick,
scuffing through the ash.
the rain has come, & i crunch
through yellow leaves each morning shrugging
my hood closer
to my face.
drops scatter against my glasses.
nothing moves early in
the morning but
cars slushing through the street,
the winds blow and
trees shake water into the air.
the early hours grow bitterly colder.

i pull on chilly layers
and stand pebbled
and plucked in front of my mirror,
relearning my face.
it is hollow-eyed
and rarely moves.
i leave in, and return to,
to a place where silence remains.

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