All I want from you is your silence.
Lips tight, withholding words with grandiose, sometimes hidden meaning
Sure to confuse and muddy already tainted waters.
Certain to leave me wondering what language you created
That can take me from a standing bloom to uprooted ragweed
With the manipulative combination of a verb, an adjective and a look.
What language is this you speak?
Please keep beneath pink lips any words you could think to utter
In validation of my filth or condemnation of this distorted being you molded.
Silent. Be silent.
As my mind begins to rumble at the same frantic, desperate beat of my heart
Only then must you part your mouth.
Abandon please the colorful words, the dramatized spilling forth of sorrow and pain.
Just kneel before me and take back every word you ever said.
Words I’ll forget if you just open your mouth and return the past into you.
Joan of Arc
Thursday, February 21, 2008, 5:54 pm
beautifully written.