Hours slumber Silence becomes tangible And the oscillating pendulum mocks me. If she’d lost my number That would be understandable, I want to call her, Yet pride stops me. Intimacy distanced me from you Does my love have to be spoken to be true? Feelings are sometimes like poetry, They cannot be explained, Like the times you’d say no to me. My feelings are like metaphors, When you look at me, I must feel seen, And I’ll open my doors and share with you my dreams. There are many like me, Yet I am unique, My mind is strong, But my hearts so weak. She called me and was crying. I annoyed her by being civilized, Our love was dying, But I never realized. Just for once say you love me she said, So I uttered the 3 words she had waited so long for, But it was to late the line went dead. So I had told these 3 words to silence, Somewhat of an irony The one thing she hated about me, Was on the line to me. I wonder how well people really know one another, Sibling to sibling, Lover to lover.