Death Of The Silence

It bleeds when you wash the dishes

A brand to the skin screaming you used to be here, you still should be but never will be again.

I know what it means to stand still with the kind of pain that makes you think you are dying, oh how I wish I was actually dying, watching your brain break every glass case of comforting happy memories and holding the broken shards of it all until your hand are weeping with you, just trying to remember it correctly, feel the way I felt my entire life but its all fucked up now, the glass and a life that you thought would never ever go away stuck in your palms no great fate is written there just pain I wish I could cut out that line.

So you keep walking, talking spitting out word after fucking word but its sits with you, heavy and hot in your stomach, let everyone move on even though they didn't really know her as herself just what she did for them because they were takers instead of givers and she was the most giving and that insatiable monster ate plate after plate of her lovely love and so the monster, in return, dangled his love just over her head, to watch her twist and turn and beg for it because thats all he had, just his cruel words and alcolism, if she had reached for his plate it would have been empty it would have shattered of the floor and she would've been able to walk around the pieces of the disgusting violent mess he truly is.

Sharp! Sharp! Cutting, slicing, sliver by sliver they take it all unquenchable, avid eaters of hearts and hopes, it burns, it stings, it bites! The bittered and butchered, the lover girls ate up, chewed spit out sick with ache in their chest, the monsters always think they like sweet but how could they really?? They are so sour, full of rot and rage they don't taste anything as their tongues are riddled with lies and nasty calculated remarks, they don't appreciate anything and they never will, they don't know how, so walk away or walk over the glass, press your feet into it, jump on it and wish and wish and wish there was something else there besides the glass and your blood but you can't turn violence into love.

They want to pin me into place to say oh its just fine I'm just fine but I can feel her shine, her real love and no glass cutting into my feet just pain in my heart, trying to remember her laugh, her jokes, her opinions and passions and playing mermaids and witches as little girls and getting stoned together laughing until we peed ourselves and drinking cheap Mexican beer and dancing I loved dancing with you it was so much fun and I fear I will bleed out every bit of you if I don't keep trying to remember every single day.

I know how it feels to live with the reek of death smeared over loving memories that used to make me proud and honored to know you, to be a part in your life and I don't want a life here without you, everyone expects me to be normal, palateable, tolerable, one stupid fucking foot in front of the other, empty words, the I'm sorry for your loss uncomfortable interjections reminding me how I lost you, how I didn't save you, how lost I am without my bestfriend.

The friends of the monster always need me to always consider them, their condolences their shitty I'm sorry but that's not all, they cry how the man abused her until he had the liquid courage to kill her loved her apparently he just loved her so much he couldn't stop hurting her loved her so much.

I know he didn't love her. Not "in his own way", not "thats just how it was with them." He didn't. Monsters don't love anyone, not even themselves.

I left my soul in that spot they marked with you Margie and I don't think I can go back to retrieve it, doesnt feel right so I guess it can only stay with you, so you will never get cold and always have someone to call when you're lonely.

Best friends are forever and I better see you waiting for me at my death bed when its my turn to go after I shatter, just glass to walk on with a beating heart.