Not Minding The Stabbing Silence in Bed

when we sleep tonight
we sleep
as tightly as screws and
bolts
as dado joints
perfectly fit without any space
for a prayer
or even a simple conversation
to patch up
what was broken
to mend the heart
to fence the souls
torn apart
by so much darkness
in this silence.
actually, i do not
mind anymore
i know
what unfinished is...

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!