Courage is for the weak,
affixed to the sticking place
secured by the brave.
Of this I am reminded
whenever you and I speak
or do not speak
as it seems
in this puddle of purgatory,
in which I’m found.
Brave red hair flailing
with patience failing
a wedge driven
between
us
by silence, your silence.
Courage is for the weak,
of this I am reminded
each time you fail to
Speak.
