Quiet

It’s quiet i need

And yet it’s quiet that is lost

In my life

Music used to be my life

Used to define Talia Green

And yet that is lost too

The beautiful minor fall

On my piano

That echos through the hallways of my house

Seep into the breaks

Of it’s walls

Seep into the breaks of what used to be a house

But is now a broken home

That enhances my broken heart

That cradles it

In a cushion of needles

And yelling and screaming and hate

And questions

When will it stop?

When will my tears finally meet their end?

When will there finally be quiet in my home?

With birth of hard labor

Pain and sweat and tears

With the hope

That one day

It will all be worth it

But the labor did not come to a stop

When the child breathed his first breath

And cried on the strength of that first breath

The labor, the pain

Has merely been blanketed

By the lies in the eyes

Of a love gone wrong

Like a harsh winter

Replaced by blooming spring

Only to be met by

That harsh winter once more

Fake, fake

He fools you

As nature uses her sneaky ways

To fool you too

It is now winter

The harshest of them all

With blistering cold gusts of winds

And angry handfuls of snow

God has thrown at us

And yet all of this pain

All of this sorrow

Has yet to be melted by

The sun’s blinding love

And when it comes

The beauty, the happiness

We must make it last

Because it’s only a matter

Of heart beats

Until

It is lost again.