Reduced to Silence

Line after line
With the intricacies of our pain,
Where society went wrong
And how we're all not sane

I now understand
Why we use to talk so much
But when it came time to act
We were a scarce bunch

We shout, we scream
Our "noise" irritate deaf ears
We try to get the attention of brick walls
We fail, we are reduced to tears

Their words sting like venom
Ours crumble, falling like ash
We retreat back into hardship
And just like that, our dreams crash.

Ms. Black Widow

Silently,
She watches the specimen
Drone on and on
Buzzing up and down
Here and there
Unknowingly catching her eye

Still
Patiently waiting to devour the specimen
Tearing and shearing
Ripping and shredding
At long last her craving, satisfied.

Why Should I Stick Around?

One day I will go through with it and they will all swear that I was fine; that I was coping well. They will say they do not understand what could have gone wrong, that I had it all together and that they knew every thing about me. It was 'obviously' something new that bothered me.

But when I tried to speak to them they never listened; replying or rather interjecting before I had finished speaking. Going on and on about what troubled them without thinking to consider whether I had any problems of my own.

I think they will blame me for being closed off. They will blame me for distancing myself but why should I stick around to listen to people drone on and on about themselves after interrupting me while I was trying to speak.

Why should I stick around?