Just Silence

by Heather Rae

Just silence
surrounds me,
voiceless amongst
echoes
in this nasty motel.
Held by a fist
at the ready
of a yank,
in case
I've grown deaf
to the shackle
of his chain.
Just silence for
dawn does not
crack a break,
instead illuminates
locked doors,
barred windows
and even the shards
of glassed in hours,
shine in their mocking
of peace,
scattered in the sand,
resting in an ironic
display of freedom
after riding my throw
to the walls
of my captivity.
Just silence from
painted lips that
protect the truth,
"He takes care of me"
perched on my tongue.
words like love and protects
follow suit.
Who is she?
not seeing me reflected,
i find only a child
behind a stale shroud ,
astutely drawing
shadowed eyes,
with smoke and mirrors
she hides.
Just silence
as the sun dangles
just past my
tippy toed reach,
pathetic attempts
to restrain it's descent.
Girl of the night
wears a grown pose,
shirt without buttons,
my seat barely skirted.
an early catch,
I fetch the green
from a sweaty palm,
just another nasty buyer,
eager to purse.
Just silence, as
the screaming inside
feast on each scene,
each acted role, and the lines
I've learned to repeat.
It pounds in my ears,
through my core
and devours soul.
Shabby curtains close
just for a so-called rest.
Just silence
as I lay in squalor,
my body rigid
and maybe cold,
my skin is senseless
'cept for keeping
the many pieces within.
I drag myself to water,
scour it raw
but I'm to many layers
below
to find a remnant,
a sign of life below.
I no longer listen,
the bugle wont call,
there's no Calvary coming
to take me home,
just silence.