Two For No
I reach out and take a handful of awkward silence
And I do my best to sculpt it into a conversation
I try to paint it in things I want to tell you
To tell the story of the last two years inside my head
Like a coma: I'm locked in. Two blinks for no, one for yes
Keep talking, keep filling the air with whimsical shapes
I'm listening, though my expression doesn't change
Where were you, when I fell asleep?
How many times did I add my voice to your cacophony?
Do I still have some cell, some bricked-in room inside your skull?
Do you ever wonder what's behind the wall?
I fashion you from stale air and bedrock inside myself
A living, immovable statue to my own longing
You don't speak, not anymore, because now you're made of stone