And her-
She is a child of the gaps.
Of the spaces between the things we say.
Her noise is voiceless.
Because its only purpose is to shield us
From the realisation, that we are a shell.
Of what we used to be,
Of what we wanted to be.
The inside is hollowed out.
Trauma, life has eaten us up.
We have no words to say to each other.
We savage our partnership with silence,
And salve it with cool contempt.
All so we can survive it.
And her-
She is a child of the gaps
Filling our void with her noise.
Noise, any noise, just noise.
Because the noise binds us together
Fills the holes where the world leaks through.
And the silences tear us apart,
Rends us in two.
She is the life raft of words.
Dragging us from the isles of despair.
And we cling to it, to her,
As if those words belong to us,
As if her birth somehow gave us the right.
One day her voice will be her own.
And we-
We will face the gaps alone.
A Tuesday Latte 