I asked the blue blazer.
No answer.
Silence bounced out of his books.
Silence fell off of his tongue
and sat between us
and clogged my throat.
It slaughtered my trust.
It tore cigarettes out of my mouth.
We exchanged blind words,
and I did not cry,
and I did not beg,
but blackness filled my ears,
blackness lunged into my heart,
and something that had been good,
a sort of kindly oxygen,
turned into a gas oven.
Do you like me?
How absurd!
What's a question like that?
What's a silence like that?
And what am I hanging around for,
riddled with what his silence said?
- Anne Sexton, Lessons in Hunger
My soul says YES to this arrangement of words.
Yes, I am procrastinating.
Yes, I despise that word because it implies I am avoiding my studies but I would argue that I am still learning by discovering this poem and letting it dissolve like candy in my mouth.
So there.
Yes, I am going back to paper writing.
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