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Quiet, Stiff Thoughts
No speech, no thoughts,
Quiet is what they want.
So that is what they get.
I will never speak about love or respect-
For anyone, so I will still as a stone.
Cold, frozen, and hard as bone,
But bones can still break and crack.
Pressure, consistently adding to the stack,
Of many worries that hide inside of me,
And they do not know or see
Anxiety, is the name,
Of the thing that came,
When my friends said.
“Love with him is dead...”
Copyright ©
Elena Bradford
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