Interference

Expedient.

I’m looking for the basics,

the most simple,

primal

syllables

to get through to you.

I’m almost down

to grunts and gestures, here.

Where did the wonder

of our communication go?

 

It’s like there’s some kind of interference

between us.

Or is it that you just don’t care?

I’m banging on your door,

whispering at your keyhole,

raging and trembling in time

with the ebb and flow

of your persuasion.

How did I let you talk me into this?

 

You demanded equivalence,

then you used my concessions

to tune me out.

It seems to me,

that your equality

means bringing me down

to your level.

Your refusal to come up

seems more like revenge

than true progress.

 

You don’t really want to play the game,

just knock all the pieces off the board

and say you won.

 

I guess,

we’re getting back

to pre-verbal childhood,

so you’re going to have to learn

the hard way, now.

This time around,

the world’s gonna knock you down

and no one will be left

to hear you cry.

 

Sadness

is the silence

of your own voice

echoing back at you,

back at you,

back at you.

You are your only reply.

 

I don’t hear you

like I used to.

It’s like the air

has been sucked out of the room.

I see your lips move,

hands wave frantically,

but we’re yelling in a vacuum.

 

HG – 2018

 

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