Stillness

You look like a leaf

falling in slow motion

into the stone-cold ground,

shuddering in the dark,

naked like faded glory.

Solitude is a punishment,

you're a prisoner in isolation,

it swallows you whole

like a black hole stuck

on the gaps of your teeth.

And you mourn for the

murdered dialogues

and aborted reconciliations

buried on a mass grave

under your tongue.

You're a sad guitar,

whispering apologies

for the unsung melodies

that could have saved you

from drowning in profound guilt.

And I watch you weep

behind the curtains of loneliness,

when the night echoes

the screams of empty words

that have miserably failed you.