the pungent smell of your silence oozes
through the cracks in my broken walls and
dribbles down decaying
stone slabs (glued messily together with the
synthetic sympathy from the unfamiliar).
they crumble on impact when your
unspoken words rustle ever so slightly
past my lips,
and just as the glue starts to set
and i'm surrounded by the resonating
solace that never seems to ever be enough,
you rush past in a flurry of awkward
ness and disregard, and
never leave me
enough time to (re)build them.

a/n; i guess trying to stop got too hard.

you lingered, and persisted, and as soon as i let my guard down you stopped. it wasn't because you lied, or was negligent, it was because you wouldn't tell me. because there wasn't anything to tell, you said; (it was nothing).