Your Silence

 Your silence often makes me feel as if you are just a figment of my imagination. That I question if you exist for real because I write to you.

Your silence sometimes makes me feel that my being must be some sort of a delusion. That I question if I even exist for you to respond to. 

Kind words were just not spoken; kindness was always exhibited - some times lovingly and other times out of helplessness. 

Do not confuse me to be talkative because I use many words and the most selfless gesture has always been unsaid. 

I do not have it in me to speak the most important of the things I do for you and I have it in me to endure this suffering in silence. Because everything I did and say was from the deepest 'whole' that lives in me and not just a 'part' of me. 

 Do not confuse my helplessness as my outrage and my love as mere empty words because you do not have the slightest clue when I tear myself into pieces to give you things you'll never see, feel and touch today because it is for your tomorrow. 

 That tomorrow when my being will simply be a delusion but your existence will never be a figment of my imagination.