“Maybe we’ve run our course”,

Silence, deadly and lethal,

“We are strangers now”,

So much silence it sounds like the white noise that flows when the music stops playing,

Silence with something extra, meaning filtered through nothingness,

Sadness that is tangible yet not stated,

Like the whistles only dogs can hear,

The quiet seeps through the cracks in the door and blows through carpet fibers,

We shouldn’t have been listening, our fingers pressed up against the thin adjoining wall,

But I couldn’t ignore silence so loud,

It was worse the the silence that screams when the stars have reached a fixed place suspended in the night, the air teeming with the voices of dreams,

You lay there begging for a car alarm to start blaring to cut through the symphony of voices,

It is more terrible then the silence of unfinished sentences,

the meaning left dangling,

Unspoken promises and thoughts drift through the blank page of infinity,

Streaking your mind in the vibrant color of horror,

That arrives with the word ‘goodbye’,

This silence was the one of defeat,

It lingered.