It's hard to explain feelings

To someone who hasnt experienced them.

It's hard to explain what silence sounds like

Without having first heard a sound.

All of these feelings we try to disguise,

Hidden in the silence of our tearful eyes,

It tears us apart, inside, out,

through and through.

Because what we fail to realize

is silence is the loudest protest

our feeble minds can make,

when everything's on the line;

everything's at stake.

But this silence is in its own dimension,

Unrecognized by the object of our affection,

So we proclaim louder and louder,

And they never hear a sound.

Until we finally shatter.

Our solid souls become a batter,

ready to be baked,

but lacking flavor and a texture of waste.

So we watch the pieces fall to the floor,

ready to walk through the open door,

away from this nightmare of not being heard,

Although it won't solve anything,

It's a means of filling the cracks.

And although our conscience lacks

the fulfillment of being heard,

It's worth the pain of walking away

To see that smile today.