as the unfettered words
floating around in my head die a death
so unwillingly pious,
and forgo the trying times
that in such heavy rains
washes out nothing, and no one.
If you could only feel how thick the silence was,
the pile of thoughts that add up to nothing but forgotten
phrases that displace us in a later time.
A blinding white, a suffocating lightness, a poor man's gold..
- if silence continues to be bought and sold.
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