I collect silence

I collect pain

But I listen And I wait

For someone to collect mine

The day you woke up

And you heard nothing but your own breathing

Your partner left for work

And you were sick with the flu

The evening you went to a party

But they gave you the wrong address

So you sat on your porch steps

Hot angry rivers

Rushing down your flushed cheeks

The day your parent died

And you only felt numb

Every sound was a harsh buzz

But yet everything felt so quiet

The day I spiraled

The day I asked for help

The day it hurt to bad to move

And you weren’t there

Where were you

In my silence

The day your mom missed your piano recital

You were no older than seven

But We wentout to dinner

And even though the lights flickered

Everything was silent

When you got married

And I knew you could hear nothing

Nothing but the thoughts

Of how happy you were

And it was a good kind of silence

When the world was ending

I held your hand

And we sat there in silence

Just like we always do

Trying to mend the shattered glass

(nothing in this poem has happened to me)