the absence of sound

you asked him why he always whistled

and he told you that

it’s because the silence paralyzes him,

locks the joints of his bones

with steel muted chains.

you nudged his hip with your own,

told him that you thought it was silly

to fear something so lovely, so rare,

that silence doesn’t come along often enough.

he didn’t reply. just pursed his lips. just whistled.

 

but after walking into his room

to find him facedown on the floor,

pulseless in a pool of sickly scarlet,

you understand why

he couldn’t handle the silence.

and for the first time in your life

you wish someone had taught you how to whistle.

Author's Note

Would love some constructive feedback!

Reviews

[Maija Darling]

literally made my heart sink at the end. devastatingly/beautifully written.