“Why don’t you talk more?”
Cue the apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry,” I’ll say with my hands, “But silence slept next to me when I was nine, keeping me safe from the monsters under my bed,
Held my hand as I walked into the classroom for the first time.
“Why don’t you talk more?”
Silence puts her hand around my waist at my best friend’s birthday party,
I move her away,
And ask if I could meet her after the party, maybe?
She’s confused. She’s been my date every time.
I ask again. “No,” she says with her eyes.
She grips my arm tighter than she ever has before,
I beg for her to leave me alone,
“NO!” she says with her hands.
I don’t want her here, anymore.
“Why don’t you talk more?”
She grabs my legs as I desperately run towards love,
She cups her hands over my mouth, her hands slide under my skirt,
She pulls me to herself, I am nineteen.
She’s the monster under my bed.
“Why don’t you talk more?”
Silence slams the door,
And only I can hear.
It’s been twenty-five years.
I never thought I could feel this alone with someone holding on so tight.
“Why don’t you talk more?”
Cue the apologetic smile,
“I’m sorry,” I’ll say, with my eyes.
But, listen.
I’ll trace the veins on your hands as though they are a road map to happiness,
I’ll breathe love into the nape of your neck on summer nights,
And days you think about saying goodbye.
I’ll listen. I’ll listen to each word you say like they’re spells,
And I’ll kiss you like I have the greatest stories to tell.
“I don’t talk much,”
Cue the apologetic smile.
One day, you’ll say, “It’s alright.”
Silence will stand agape; silenced.
She will realise she isn’t needed here anymore,
She will silently walk out the door.
And you and I,
We could stay up all night,
And talk.
Author Bio:
Sanjana Muthukrishnan is a 17-year-old from Prune, India. She is in her final year of school, where she studies History, Economics, Psychology and Mathematics. She began writing poems and short stories at age nine on any scrap of paper she found lying around her home. Eight years later, I now she publish her poems on her blog. The sheer wonder of weaving words and phrases together, forming stories, poetry and emotions only grows as she does. She aspires to study Economics after she graduates high school and will never let the love for writing diminish.
Cue the apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry,” I’ll say with my hands, “But silence slept next to me when I was nine, keeping me safe from the monsters under my bed,
Held my hand as I walked into the classroom for the first time.
“Why don’t you talk more?”
Silence puts her hand around my waist at my best friend’s birthday party,
I move her away,
And ask if I could meet her after the party, maybe?
She’s confused. She’s been my date every time.
I ask again. “No,” she says with her eyes.
She grips my arm tighter than she ever has before,
I beg for her to leave me alone,
“NO!” she says with her hands.
I don’t want her here, anymore.
“Why don’t you talk more?”
She grabs my legs as I desperately run towards love,
She cups her hands over my mouth, her hands slide under my skirt,
She pulls me to herself, I am nineteen.
She’s the monster under my bed.
“Why don’t you talk more?”
Silence slams the door,
And only I can hear.
It’s been twenty-five years.
I never thought I could feel this alone with someone holding on so tight.
“Why don’t you talk more?”
Cue the apologetic smile,
“I’m sorry,” I’ll say, with my eyes.
But, listen.
I’ll trace the veins on your hands as though they are a road map to happiness,
I’ll breathe love into the nape of your neck on summer nights,
And days you think about saying goodbye.
I’ll listen. I’ll listen to each word you say like they’re spells,
And I’ll kiss you like I have the greatest stories to tell.
“I don’t talk much,”
Cue the apologetic smile.
One day, you’ll say, “It’s alright.”
Silence will stand agape; silenced.
She will realise she isn’t needed here anymore,
She will silently walk out the door.
And you and I,
We could stay up all night,
And talk.
Author Bio:
Sanjana Muthukrishnan is a 17-year-old from Prune, India. She is in her final year of school, where she studies History, Economics, Psychology and Mathematics. She began writing poems and short stories at age nine on any scrap of paper she found lying around her home. Eight years later, I now she publish her poems on her blog. The sheer wonder of weaving words and phrases together, forming stories, poetry and emotions only grows as she does. She aspires to study Economics after she graduates high school and will never let the love for writing diminish.
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