your silence never consented me
knowing you, your mouth was full.
lying on the bed,
silence speaks.

hanging on a thread of insolence,
what you see as honesty –
the truth stings, but lies;
more a bleed.

darkened daylight throw a glow on your
silence escapes no one, like
tugging anchors in
cold delight.

sick of peace and quiet – masks for a
subtle solution, better
bleed in afternoon

than wake to a nightmare.

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