The Poor Side of Silence

THE VULNERABILITY OF MAD INFATUATION

I fell for you from my full height, and you

Were flowers, madness -- I was drunk with spring,

With you, my lead and my perfect thing.

Your names were all the magic words I knew.

And when I found the nerve to tell you so,

You hazily answered that you did not care

For me or anything that we might share --

But softly, like the wind that follows snow,

I no longer owned a heart to bestow

Lack thereof -- no longer worthwhile

So what are you when I forget your smile?

Like an ocean of ignorance -- o' sweet relief!

The tumblings of spring dissolved,

Leaving the sour taste of blooms on the autumn leaf

Desire urged me on, whilst fear bridled me,

I refused thou forced memorial -- as memory is all I have.

My string broke with sweet deception

I must balance on a moment of pure indecision

And offer you only half my thought --

As I hoped to give you all of myself,

Blooming with irony and contradiction,

Bearing you angels and demons,

Warm truth and shady fiction.