i can still hear the shattering even in this silence

withdrawal and silence
absence
are not a new thing
yet i am taken aback that i have not become accustom to it through the years
i thought my feet would have thickened,
and my heart would have become calloused to it
the hardening, thickening never came
yet i could not stop the breaking
and early last May when my feet and heart shattered into a kazillion shards
and my feet could no longer carry me
i refused to let the pieces die
the remnants i gathered up were so very exhausted, so very tired, so thin
i no longer could see how mending was possible
my vision blurred, hope dwindled into that silence

whether deserved or undeserved
i have never gotten use to the withdrawal and silence
or the sense of absence
as it was before, so it continues
withdrawal and silence and absence broke me
and it still works on me the same way today
it chips away at my feet, my heart, my mind, my soul
as i have done in the past, i speak into the silences
it is the only thing i ever could think to try
though from time to time i believe i heard the faintest stir
i haven't been able to draw anything forth from that silence for as long as i can remember
not with a gentle word, a caress, not with a holler, a foot stomp, not with truth or the lessor
and still i cry and wither when i hear the same hollow ring in its stringent vacancy
the fragments splinter further
i must stop speaking into the silence
there is no life there for me no matter what i wanted or want
and i wanted you so

feet of shadows trudge this space of absence

i need to allow the shards of what remains to be mended
to gently allow my shadowed fragmented shards to be gather up
and as an invisible hand mends me, i want to breathe forgiveness
to breathe again and again, to choose to live