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Silence


I think of the poem I wrote,
That I wanted to read to you.
I think of the way I wanted
To ask you to pray with me.
And yet my words are stuck

 In my throat,
I can't afford to need you this much.
I can't risk the disappointment of disinterest,
The disillusionment of good intentions
Fallen flat.

 They say hope disappointed makes 
The heart sick, and my heart is sick.
And fragile, and full of shadows.
But the risk of sharing that with you
Is too great.

 I cannot be the needy one,
Am tired of being one thing
Instead of many things.
I want to claim my strength and perseverance,
My resilience and fortitude.

 But all you see is this sadness
And so, I keep silent.

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