when May bleeds into June

i was silent all May

my voice must have passed with the spring 

i believe it will continue into June

be it summer or monsoon 

heat or rain

with their tangible fury

all the love that kept me warm

November to April

autumn to winter

were all a farce, a cruel ruse

disguised as formidable lovers

loyal to the pretense 

leaving just as expected 

my voice ever so coddled

by the spirit my faith could not satiate

in that abyss of solitude 

north wall of my apartment 

bleak was the future before me, near and far

and speech could not convey to others

the aching -

long were the silent conversations on my bed

quiet was the hope that gets one up

loud was the silence