The old man awoke with a start
from dreams unending.
And his dreams contained monsters
and old loves lost
stinging rebukes bitter on their lips as they screamed heresy at his soul

The human mind is amazing
but it can also be the most powerful weapon against other minds
Especially when they use silence as their poison
Crushing, aching silence.
In the storm keeps, the lightening flickers
flashes of light indicate beings moving through the dark
all in a heavy syrupy silence

And why not?
After all, the best traps for humans is to lure them in with love
and leave them alone and isolated with silence
as they scream and scream and scream
with the only answer being their echoes
who would not go crazy under such circumstances?

The mind has certain music that must be played for it to hear
one can be in the middle of Manhattan
with music blaring from the angels in hell
and the mind will not hear a thing
It will consider itself as alone as the most isolated prison in this life.

the mind can only hear the sound of emotion
and the whisper of human souls
caressing it gently
it can hear a lover cry out in misery
or a beggar dragging herself over the cobblestones
It can decipher the rhyme and reason of other souls
languages that require only empathy to master

It is a complicated organ and silence kills it
slowly
like poison through an IV.
Drip
Drip
Drip
through the heavy bloodstream laced with sorrow and drugged with disbelief
turning logic to lead

To master silence is to master the killer of humanity itself
a silence as dense as black holes
as powerful as solar flares
is putting your own humanity in danger
for how can you truly claim to be empathetic when you subject anyone to such torture?

How do you close your eyes and live with yourself when My memory rises in your thoughts
and slowly
quietly
furiously
asks you why you betrayed something as beautiful as our love?

Didn’t that mean something to you?
Or did the only thing that matter be the feeling of my shoulder against yours?
The physical feeling of my body protecting you?
Was that all I was?
A mound of skin and bones against the world?

I am no person’s servant
I serve the people I love willingly
Yet they are not my masters
I cannot be dismissed with the slash of a pen or the pat of a keyboard

I am more than that fool that texted you every morning asking if you slept well
I am a human being with dreams and aspirations
and my own specific brand of cruelty