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Silence That Bleeds

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I watch the Egyptian eyes,
While sparkling diamonds fall down to different shades of brown hands,
The concern on my face awaits for an explanation.
Moments pass by.
My senses more efficient than ever,
Birds chruping, cars going by, and Johnny and the boys gambling on the corner,
Yet that almond face says nothing,
Just looks away towards blankness of cement and wood.
Silence sounds loud.
My ears bleed and the dirty Nile leaves me,
Bringing down five dollar make-up,
Along with what seems to be the red sea,
An emotion not yet known.
I feel more than anticipation.

Soon lyrics come from ebony pillows
And confess.
I looked at her with awkwardness and confusion,
Beyond the extremities of disappointment.
Or even anger,
My senses explode of the falling to the knees,
And below ones belt she goes,
For the word love that came from his foolish lips and foul mouth like vomit,
Smelly and distorted.
Contorted ideas as if you must express your feelings for him like that.
Then a light bulb immediately illuminates and,
I know,
For the God of silence secrets,
Shared her combination to the volt of forgotten nevers.

All I do is search for gospel to play for her,
Yet silence takes the best of me.
Me, a person who eternally sings,
Day and night,
Even when my mind is still.
Me of all people has nothing to say.
So I struggle to pull rays of light,
And try to bring sunshine to an unfamiliar place of deep dark blue black pain,
Only the lack of words are remembered,
And silence that bleeds.





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