There is silence,
a low hollow lull
that dulls me
as I sit for hours
shadowing the sun.
When there is sadness I pain,
there is no light through net curtains
no joy seen out of window.
the sound tightens the sinews
grasps the very heart and strangles.
What would it be like to go like that?
Suffocated under the twinkle of the stars
hung underneath a blossom tree.
Silence, one little breath at a time
one short burst of a memory
shattered by the need for a rhyme.