title: Gibberish
part: 1/1
status: complete
date: Dec 09
author: Thanatos-Aire
contact: death. in. a. box13 (at) gmail .com
archived?: LJ, FFN, GWU
genre: fanfiction Shin Kidou Senki Gundamu W (Gundam Wing)
rating: PG
warnings: blood imagery
cast: 3+1
trailer: I know no other language than this but you never hear the words.
disclaimer: I do not own, claim to own, nor make profit off the use of any and all canon or otherwise copyrighted elements borrowed without permission contained herein.
I'm afraid you never hear me
when I try to speak without words.
All the little things in my head
and the big one in my heart
boil down to touches of your hair and back
and polite kisses dropped upon your crown.
My tongue is tangled, lips sewn shut,
if ever I try to voice it,
so I sign and I stay and I touch
but it isn't enough.
You take it as friendship,
are deaf to the silent screams
of my heart bleeding over your wounds,
and I fall quiet once more, frustrated.
I know no other language than this
but my emotions get lost in translation
because you always try to argue semantics
and I never was good at that.
I'm afraid you never hear the words
that I whisper with my hands,
are blind to the extra meanings and cause.
All the little things in my head
and this monster in my soul
rip out of me in lingered touches and
waiting meals and small smiles.
But you don't realise the importance,
don't understand how much it hurts,
and yet how much I'm pulled
to do these things.
My heart hides but peeks around the corner
in hope,
and you walk right on by.
My silent screams, my voiceless cries,
they fall upon your mission-tuned ears;
My quiet reaching and breathless touches
blur into the background.
So I hold back, pull back, and still you don't notice.
I know no other language and still
it is difficult to get the words right,
but you skip over the connotations for the denotations
like you always do.
I'm afraid you'll never hear me
as I cry without tears.
My blood is invisible on your hands already stained.
What more can I do,
I've all but said those words aloud,
and you don't notice how you're typing
with my heart cradled in both hands.
I follow and follow and follow
but your eyes are turned forward.
Maybe they were right when they gossip
and say you can't feel,
but either way Sylvia was wrong:
The coward is me.
So I try one last time, before you leave me
forever for her:
brushing shoulders
as we stand together on the balcony
overlooking starry skies,
and I smile
and offer to get you a drink.
You decline
without even looking at me.
fini-