22.6.08

New Strangers

We sit like bookends
Avoiding stare
The haunting tick of the clock
Rings like bad tinnitus.

Frozen in fear
or humiliation
New strangers in this world.

Silently bound by past
Silently divided by present
Silently yelling at one another.

Communication severed
Miles of pain
Lakes of tears
Choking the minds
of the two former lovers.

I get up
And leave