Silence

I've got nothing to say,
but why would I speak to you
when my thoughts sound empty as dark caves.
I decide over and over again
I don't like vulnerability.

Last year, I nearly lost it
thinking nothing.
I was curious years ago
but I suppose the intrusive nerves
in your body grow thin over time
- the emphatic, excited gestures curl up.
It's weird to think there's still blood in me somewhere,
percolating with deep wet oozes.
Blood somehow always pumps.

I spend many days
mumbling words I'll say clear that night.
But really,
how much do i have to explain
when the universal generalization
explains even that which i can't grasp
for I've only experienced my experience.

You get to know someone really well
and you become so comfortable in their idiosyncrasies.
I sit with you
and say nothing
- it means I love you.

Sometimes you're cutting,
clinching your teeth at my silence
and it frustrates my heart
because I walk and think
in circles on hardwood floors,
the boards creaking
with every footstep I take
toward you.