you say not a thing,
but if you ever do
i'll be here waiting
for you, but for now
your absence shouts
even louder now and
your silence
like a scream.
and the lack of your
voice anymore
is deafening to me.
well, did you break the glass
in the picture frame
that you kept my face
tapped within?
now your bloodied hand
speaks of shame,
and only these tourtured
breaths remain.
still I'm not asking you
to bend or break or even move
from where you are.