What I 'Felt' To Say Was...

Echo Through Ensuing Silence

Ohh, how the sickening sound
of our ensuing silence
infects my mind
with such a multitude of worries
and thoughts I loathe to utter.

We mutter constantly
about such safe nothings
as our polite propriety deems fit
to fill the void of voices
left behind by our petty pride
and the melancholy experience
that to venture upon certain subjects
is conversational murder.

We talk sparingly with few words,
and answers that lead nowhere,
but to confusion, animosity,
and frustration with our ineptitude
to navigate back to the
precious place we were before.

We both long to revisit,
if not re-inhabit,
that safe world of trust and sharing
that we once took for granted,
yet, though I labor in that direction,
it seems you are determined
to labor in the opposite.

Perhaps my instinct can be trusted
as I once trusted you.
Perchance, do you labor against me,
and not, as I once thought,
against some unspoken action?
If intuition be trusted,
Your contrary actions serve to test me,
and more specifically,
to test the depth of my love.

Testing me,
pushing me away,
fighting my love,
while at the same time
you make overwhelming,
and unmistakable proofs
that you desperately want
and need my love above all else.

If intuition be trusted,
you test my love
solely to answer a question of value.
It seems you are asking
"Will you give up on me?
Am I worth the effort?"

Ohh, how the sickening sound
of your ensuing silence
infects my mind
with worries and thoughts
I loathe to utter,
yet through your ensuing silence
an answer echoes louder
with every weary repetition
of my worries,
"I'm still here,
for you are worthy of any effort."

a/n:  Credit to my muse,
you'reafinegirl, your eyes
could steal a sailor from the sea.
I expect he will answer your question
in time, with loving perfection.