A very silent song

Lemme think...

I remember him taking my hand
I remember having hoped he'd do so

I remember us walking across the woods
I remember him leading me to a cave

I remember him pushing me in

...or was it jolting me in?
 In any case.

And now, here I stand
sharpening my senses
trying to listen
Could I hear his breathing?
trying to see, something anything
Could I see how to get out?

It's all very puzzling
but I do know for certain
that I must not move
for if I did
I might bump into him
-- that is, if he still is here? --
and he might not like it.

Must not upset him.

So now, here I stand
sharpening my senses
trying to listen
trying to see, something anything
and keeping very, very still

Must not upset him.

They come in waves

I bet there's an infographic just waiting to be drawn out,
extracted from his bursts of self-concern
-- and how they're supposed to wash me away
like food stains on his shirt --
as they come in waves.

But, as you can clearly see,
I don't keep track that closely anymore...
My writing's very infrequent.

So, apologies to everyone,
no neatly packaged visual information
for your enjoyment

not now
not at my expense.