There were no sounds.
Your presence is tolerated.
No one will ever tell you that your kind is here to be seen and not heard.
Why make anyone uncomfortable by saying it outloud?
We all know this is, what it is.
Your presence here will be tolerated.
But not your particpation.
Not your questions.
Or your contributions.
Where is your grattitude for being let into the room at all?
Anything could happen in the quiet!
The lips pursed as if to kiss the air.
Who knows what will come next.
It could be the the thing that finally makes everything make sense.
There was an empty place inside.
And the words still echoed in there.
I don’t love you.
I never did love you.
You weren’t enough.
But that was only on the inside that she heard those things.
There were no sounds on the outside.
Everything had already been said.
Have you ever heard the snow fall onto a lake that hasn’t yet frozen?
A lovely living white noise.
At the edge of hearing.
Or maybe you are only imagining it.
Because now, there is only you.
In a field with a lake in the winter at night.
It is so quiet here.
You think its the worst thing.
When they stick the filthy rags in your mouth
To muffe out the screaming.
It’s not though.
The worst is when they offer to take the gag away
And you agree to be quiet
Because you have learned your lesson
The first time
I released my thinking away truly.
Placed it gently on a river like a floating leaf.
And just let it go.
The first time I sat in this True Silence.
I glimpsed myself for the first time.
Just a brief reflection in the river.
Then the breeze came in, and wrinkled the water up.
But I had seen it.
The me behind me.
The observer of the fools parade of thoughts.
She saw their eyes heavy with fear and worry.
And she tried to hold back the moan.
It all hurt, though.
Mostly she was ready for it all to be over
The body blotted out her best intentions
Gasped. Clutched out for a hand with her wrinkled hand.
Her heart stopped before they touched.
There were no more noises here.
I might end this line right here.
I might say these words and pause.
I might open this
White space, pure on the page.
And a gift
Here, take it.