How can I be silent,
How can silence fill my howl
The tears I do not cry
The grief
I wear like a cowl
That I borrowed from you
As you lay dying
The words I left unsaid
My truths
Exposed and cloying
Patterns upon the bed
Where I watched over you
As you fought to live
My thoughts
Unheard, untouched, untrue
How can I not be silent
No words to share or give
How can then my silence
Give you
Cause to grieve?
ipsita banerjee 
Heart of stone carved from frozen magma before the earth spun solid. Teardrops rest on the intersection of each eight-legged super highway and shake the web of electrical synapses with each release into a dark unknown.
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