Silence is a Woman
She stands blind and deaf with clenched fists.
Her lack of voice is a violent wave of desolation.
In one hand she holds my heart, and in the other
she holds a knife. She gives no sign of reaction,
leaving imagination to run wild with anticipation.
She is a statue, unresponsive to any stimuli.
I scream with all my breath, and she just remains
still, staring off into another world.
Shattered, I crumble before her. She is sick and
disturbed by the image of my ashes. She sweeps them
up and drops them into the trash.
Calmly she walks away never to look back,
silent and unabashed.
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