“When mouths close, it’s because there’s something important to be said” – Paulo Coelho – The Witch Of Portobello
Silent, because the words I would say would only cause a fight that would break and not mend all that remains. So I remain silent.
And I think it’s these words that my lips hold back that punish me for my silence, and now ring in my head, creating a tumultuous din of things I’ve failed to say.
Failed, not for want of trying, but knowing the consequences wouldn’t bring us to the beautiful din of colours that once lit up our world.
Like when I ended up in A&E and called you, scared out of my mind. Only wanting the attention of your ears and the comfort of your voice, only to receive your excuses and defenses, rather than your coos of concern, I fell silent – holding back words set alight by a wounded heart.
Silenced by your tit-for-tat, childish silence. The type that calls for attention when it fails to give the same. And now my angered beating heart screams out words that my mouth refuses to release, and unfortunately for my poor self they drain into my chaotic mind. A mind hosting the concert of angered and saddened words unsaid.
A chaos chants despair and pessimism that has blackened my once jovial heart.
Sadly, unlike most people, I don’t suffer in silence, but with a closed mouth and pursed lips that don’t let words escape, and a clamorous mind that pauses for no one.