i.
We've cauterized
the wound
of our screaming
and left behind
a mute
silver scar
of a sealed mouth.


Missing
was the thump
of connection,
the slicing sound of
skin breaking skin.


You did not
pull apart
the heavy doors of
my isolation with
an aching creak.


I did not
pound my fists
against your chest
with an echo
of blood, bone and sinew
in your ribcage.


our was a battle
fought in silence
won in the trenches
of chosen deafness

if winning means
we can ignore the
sightfeelsmelltaste
that dig into our skulls
and steal the sounds
of our loneliness
leaving only
the dull buzz
of unfulfilled need.

08/16/2004

Author's Note: i don't know what it means. it just sort of...happened.

Posted on 08/17/2004
Copyright © 2025 Betania Tesch