Things You Wanted to Say Today But Didn't

If I were to tell you all of the things I wanted to say today but didn't, those things would fit in no space.

It's strange, I'm not generally a quiet person, but sometimes I get in these... moods. And then I speak so sparingly that a blind person could confuse me for a nun with a vow of silence.

It is easy to feel like quiet spells are unnatural when we are expected to Tweet every twitch and discuss every disgust. All of the things are open to opinion and opining. But the simple fact that we are able to broadcast our every breath doesn't make it necessary. Brevity can be the soul of wit just as loquacity can be the whole idiot.

It is okay not to talk all the time. It is okay to watch and wait and store things away for later. It is okay, sometimes, just to listen.

Nighttime Melody

A fan in the corner
Thrumming lowly, slowly
Muffles the silence

They call it white noise
Because it cancels everything

But I think it just tucks it in
Under warm blankets
Sings it a lullaby
Then tip-toes
Out of the room,

Taking the waking light
Leaving the comforting
Liquid of night

Softening the harsh edges of nothing
With the mellow curves of something

Humming my mind into
The lapping wavelets
Of sleep.

A New Beginning

The bumble of the dryer
as it warms my clothes

The inaudible hum of the light
over my table

The creaking of the wood floor
beneath my socked foot

Small sounds, keeping me company
in the lonely nights of the
pen sitting on the paper
Unmoved, unmoving.

And I select an orange
Close the fridge with a tap

Return, working the peel,
my fingers nimble here
in the familiar task

Stripping through skin
Into the pith

The juice drips down,
through my fingers,
onto the page,
the neglected pen

Writing a poem
for my eyes, my stomach
and the comfortable rush
of the heated air
through the vents.