We Speak In Silent Paragraphs in Writings

I can't hear a word you say, so we speak in silent paragraphs, and continue the routine of anger and love, until one of us decides we have something to say. I'm the only one who speaks, and you disregard my words, so it's meaningless to speak, if my feelings have no worth, and it's a riddle that you cannot seem to solve, as if it's some great puzzle with missing pieces on the floor, and you don't have the will to search. These feelings, neglected, and falling out of what we once were, and you pretend it's all okay and nothing has changed, but why am I the only one who sees this decay? Are you blind to the obvious, can't you tell I'm stale with love, can't you sense I'm not satisfied, can't you tell that I don't feel loved? I push, only to feel no force, I scream, only to hear an echo, this leaves me feeling empty. Any attempt goes unseen by your blind eyes, and disregarded, useless in every sense. A love renewed, a flame rekindled, and ages with time and enters the final stage, before it begins to decay, Is this where we are? I beg you, show me you love me, before it is to late, I cannot judge time anymore, because it slips through my fingers and I cannot feel it. All I know is that what we once were, is no longer what we are, and I need those familiar feelings, I need to feel endearing, I need to feel beautiful, I need to feel like I matter more than anything else in the world, the reason I want this, is because I've had it once before, you gave me a taste, and now your taking it all back. If you cannot feel passion for me, then how can you say you can feel love? Because love is the greatest passion in this world, a gift not all of us are given.

Last updated May 10, 2014