It engulfs me, your silence.
I always thought in retrospect, things you said would hurt me.
Or the things you did.
But no, it is the never ending silence that hurts me more.
It is like a dagger, that slowly passes through me, without an exit wound.
Of course there wouldn’t be an exit, it is not a bullet.
A bullet would hurt less.
But a dagger, with jagged edges, slowly cutting through. And as it cuts, it breaks my heart into a million pieces.
How cliched, you would say, but then that’s me.
Cliched, dramatic, and yet, somewhere deep within, different from the all the nonsense in this world.
Just like you and I are. Like silence and words.
Yin and yang.
Let’s sit together some time, you and me.
You bring your silence, I’ll bring my words.
Because words are all I have.
And then, we’ll share a cup of too-sweet chai.
And then maybe, just maybe, I’ll be able to hold out my hand, and you will find it, and hold it.
I will say all I have been meaning to, and you will listen.