Don’t talk to me.
Talking is too easy.
Mouths flowing with empty words:
How are you?
The weather turned cold.
Do you have any plans this weekend?
What do you do for a living?
You don’t really care what I say.
These are just mortar to fill the empty spaces
so the silence doesn’t strangle us.
How are you?
If I answer honestly
when I ache from loneliness
when I want to fade into nonexistence
when my body or my mind tortures me,
you step aside quietly.
You only want to know that my life is
roses
sunshine
unicorns
lollipops
dancing in the rain
finding joy in the sorrow
living laughing loving.
So don’t talk to me.
Sit with me.
Be with me.
Feel me.
Let us be together,
friend with friend,
listening to that silence,
exploring it together,
exploring it separately.
Where will your mind go?
Where will mine?
Our bodies will be together,
anchoring us to the here and now,
a safe haven
so that our minds can wander freely.
And then you won’t need to talk to me.
I’ll know.
I’ll know by the way your shoulders droop
that you’re feeling the darkness.
I’ll know by the way your breathing is smooth
that you’re feeling at peace.
I’ll know by the way the corners of your mouth tip up,
just a little,
and your eyes are closed but not shut,
and your fingers are interlaced on your knees,
that in that silence your soul is shining brightly.
And we’ll be talking together at last,
not with words,
because words make it too easy to lie,
not with words,
because words fill the cracks that should be left unfilled,
not with words at all.
With being, together.
Just… don’t talk to me.
11.24.21