Silence Poem by Heart of Ice Die Die Die

Silent and depressing
the slightest noise
stands out.
The tap of a foot
the scratch of my pen
meeting paper.
THey say it normal
wonderful even.
I find it a curse.
A way for unsaid things to continue being
unsaid.
I even miss the loud familiar sounds
even though
they usually bring pain,
silence brings the cold and deception,
time slipping by
and there's nothing you can do.
A minute flys by
a minute you'll never get back.
Things you thought and said
that will never really be heard.
False fill-in owrds
only said
to keep the room
a liveable temperature
leave some air to breath.
Now do you understand
why the wounded bird
still sings?

Nov.-28-09