Silence she hates.
It kills her slowly. Every second, a slow death.
She does not like that pace. Death she desire be rapid, not endured with this lethargy.
He was taking his time, and so was death!
The bags were being packed.
Then lay packed on the unmade bed,
She simply looked on.
Not a word. Not a look.
Finally the voice be heard. “ Everything packed?”
She nods. Her voice has no say, never did, never will have.
“Good!”
She still watches, in the lethal silence.
Too many goodbyes, too many good bye kisses, too much or too little emotions. Just dust of the past.
“Ok, I am off” he says.
“Good bye!” she says.
There is this weird silence that i could feel while reading this poem, It was kind of something which was unsaid but yet seeping out from within somewhere.