My silence.

Time and again I regret words I've spoken
they hung in the air, alone and bare.
In my head I play constant revisions
of things I wish I've said differently
but more importantly, more honestly.

Most of the time, meanings are left behind
for my half-utterances are half-truths.
I do not mean to side-step when questioned,
just an impulse born of this fragility I'm sanctioned.
My world is small, what intrudes stays for good.

If I do not say much and it hurts you
do realize that my silence is my strength.
What little I have shared with you
if it's not enough or worse, offends you
I apologize but realize my silence is just a disguise.

In my dreams I show you a great painting
that bare to you all that I want to say.
You run your hands over them where lay
all my truths, all my feelings.
Before it we stood and embrace in silence.