Your Silence Stings Deeper Than Daggers

Your silence stings deeper than daggers
Your look colder than dry stones


There's a storm in my mind
I send lightning from my hands
But all of Jupiter's fiercest arrows
Could not make move these dry stones

Your silence is cutting like daggers
Its slashes grow deep without cutting the surface
Leaving the inside mangled
Without a single drop of blood
Or a wince to show for the pain

My anger is growing like bruises
It wants to come out but stays in
Ignites a cursed fuse
That grows longer, not shorter
And woodpeckers hide my chagrin


Your absence is like a dried flower
Its frozen and won't grow or die
And though my soul listens
For a sigh or a whisper
My eyes long to weep
For my face is too dry


Give me a reassuring whisper
Give me a satisfying sigh
Make me to weep
I, too, wish to sleep
My face is too dry
Its too dry
Its too dry