You taste the sounds and hear the colors of the quiet blackness all around. Left is right, right is left- The dirt's the sky, on clouds you step. Turned about in every direction, till all that's left(the only exception)The only way left is to write. So take my pen and write the words to erase all the feelings buried in your mind even as they race. What once was still remains, but what wasn't said was only thought in vain. She thought you said, you said you thought these feelings you kept contained. But in your mind, in hers, in mine- all we think or thought but didn't say was simply the same as a quiet whisper in the middle of the pouring rain.
May 12, 2012