Silence

You don't understand my silence. I thought with time you would. I had a firm belief you'd give my silence space to grow then shrink on its own. Yet you want to crush it into little pieces, you present your loud personality and expect me to "let it go".

I won't explain, please don't make me. If words were my friend at the moment they wouldn't leave me this silence. I am left with hurtful things to say, I will say things I regret.

If it was the other way around, I would respect your statue-like silence, your aura wouldn't leave me any other choice but to submit while I struggle to have you leave my silence in peace. You don't know that I leave myself no time to think things through which is why I have these sort of days. I pick up a book, my kindle, start a conversation or at best sit idly (the idle state includes my mind). I choose to dwell on other people, other places, other things. I leave my here and now somewhere else, on a parallel universe if that's possible.

I want peace. I really do. And my words may pass your ears by as if they were spoken in a foreign tongue. Words are deceiving anyway. But my silence... you don't have to understand it, just give it a few grains of respect.