Saturday, February 27, 2016


The power of silence
the sound of not saying
the shouting of the cold

as the time stops

words loudly whispered through the empty

(i have nothing to say
my fingers, breathe freezing,
my ribcage, blood, muscles of my lips,
eyes, the heart not beating,
the skin between my fingers not alive,
the space inside the ear not hearing,
muscles contracting slightly towards my center, to drag them with me to the darkness the black opening on the back of my head, heavy place. 
Body getting lighter as thoughts repeating over and over.)

in the neck the words, building a hardness, transforming into dark blue,
gets colder
less in being
less of life

the silence takes
makes cold

the coldness comes to my side,

takes, says to be quiet, for no one to hear or to see.

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