The silence I hold in my palms beats like a ripped-out heart,
It is taking its last breaths as I pierce it with the sharpest darts.
And I break the silence like a glass on a dirty stone floor,
The coldness mixes with the clear shards as I count to four.
My breath rolls down my tongue faster than a tidal wave
Until there are no martyrs left for the nobleman to save.
I cross my heart as I shout from every rooftop of your empty city,
Wishing I could get it back without feeling their faux pity.
But I know they hear me, and soon enough I will prove it,
The silence I held will be the reason you finally face the music.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 