that are lost to the thoughtlessness of self-obsession,
so did this pass unheard.
I have heard the silence growing,
bit by bit...
In words that remained unsaid because
they seemed unnecessary,
were deemed unnecessary.
In the pause before a hug
that wasn't asked for
but should have been given.
In the quiet comfort expected of a friend
who should have been there,
but wasn't.
I have heard the silence growing, bit by bit.
What was once the inconsequential quiver
of a gentle pluck
is now the screech of a shattered string,
and all music the drifting flotsam
in dying laughter, unspoken dreams,
and unsung memories.
The silence that was once one of expectation
is now one of punishment;
I heard it growing,
and presumed it to be acceptance of my flaws.
I presumed too much.