Spilled Silence

Spilled Silence
By: Bryan Olson

Give me that raven haired goddess reflected in my rear-view.
So many years spent with others behind the wheel.
(taxing)
Multiple fractures have extended to the outer layer of my mind,
Causing an incomplete understanding of the impact surrounding this unique conundrum.

Suppressed like oxygen
(trapped in jars)
I could hear the pop resonate throughout the tainted glass.
Without worry of sound levels in my universe,
I drift on the fields that flew between the buds that taste.

Thoughts float outside my sill of that face, and those eyes that spilled silence into my ears.
(few remaining have seen the magpie dance)
Those encounters that left me hollow.
It is not what did or did not happen,
But rather the entire ironically irrelevant yellow spin thrown in my direction.

I remember those months vividly,
(like a dream within a dream)
Laughing with a furious passion (just as contagious as Ebola)
Falling onto each other, before every time felt like the first.
Now I walk in an avalanche, receiving the echo of a mix-tape that blackouts my heart.