The truth is that there is nothing to say.
Regardless, we say. Silence frightens us.
Quiet itself is disquieting. Thus
We steel ourselves against it — pretense play.
The truth is that we scare ourselves away.
Much better that than face the emptiness
That lays itself upon our consciousness
Like winds upon the desert sand-dunes lay.
When by ourselves we can do many things
Like write a letter or read a book or
Sing our favorite song or fall fast-asleep.
When among others, conversation brings
Commercial-costume cast-iron armor
Marketplace-masquerade mist blanket deep.
© 2013 Firestone Feinberg