It echoes in the silence

As loud as blaring sirens

All the screams and tears

Amassed over the years

He yells and yells

The same things her whispers tell

Their eyes speak volumes

But the unspoken thoughts stand in between like overbearing columns

All the sorrow and regret together

Omens the gloomy weather

The words hang off their lips

And drip off their fingertips

The past hangs over their heads

Gnawing, growing, feeding off all the unsaid

So instead

All that is left is a single, solitary thread

Now, around each other they go

Tiptoe, tiptoe

Circles, around and around

But they make no sound

Tiptoe, tiptoe

Forever they will go