Could My Love Be Silent
More recently, l’ve romanticized the idea of falling in love through silence.
Maybe it's because my mother pushes love on me through her tongue.
Maybe it's because I prefer the inner monologue of myself rather than what I think others perceive me as.
I don't want to faze the mind of whom
I desire by saying I do not wish to be loved by my exterior at all (in both appearance and demeanor). Although I find that,
according to my standards,
consciousness is more amusingly complex, and therefore more significant.
My dilemma: submission to another mind.
To truly know someone, do I have to force
my mind's sermon out of its cocoon?
If my comfort only ranges to falling in love
in silence, how important can my words be?
The easy answer may be to ignore the statement made about either account,
although my soul does not let me.
Tragic.
It may be impossible to find
another to be happily desolate with.
Note: Falling in love does not equal the concepts of marriage, sex, or romance.
In my version of equality, a blink of an eye
might cast the same spell.
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