Convalescence

Picture credited to rjinrhee

You silence me with deafening presence

and I would waste my romance on you

had I the will to step ahead.

These words are just casualty

to the gripping realism of pretense

and ignorance.

Neither side has passed their banter

onto a wasted soul, nor wet their lips

at the forthcoming of a guided kiss.

How can the venom sting

if it was there from the beginning?

Convoluted bodies reaching for an answer

where answers can not be given—

and actions become louder than words

when words have long lost their meaning.

When sentences become fragments

inside the twisting nether

of a poor lost boy.

And as the boy begins to collect

his lost remains, the worst parts of you

are just entertained.