Piercing a much needed silence has drained me thin. Her voice like knives creating a river of blood from mine ears. So much is said while so little of it is understood by the one vocalizing it. The empty knowledge creates a deafness that is insufferable. Am I pissed off? No, I am silenced. Drink my suffering and rehydrate. A little passion rekindled and speaking from flesh to flesh instead of through words alone. A boy serving as a bandaid for my days trials. Why cannot things work out for matters of our hearts? Give it time... What is time though? Is it a cushion keeping us standing idly by? It makes us awkward statues; compasses and the hands of time. "What time do you think we've got?"