When Words Fail
The fear is back that words will desert me when the world has hurt you, and it is my turn to offer comfort. On the day that you come to me and my I love yous ring hollow in your ears because you’ve heard them too often, will I have nothing else but silence to give?
When your soul seeks reassurance that the one who walks beside you still holds you dear, will I be able to squeeze eloquence from my heart? Or will I drown while searching for the perfect reply, grasping and gasping, as I spiral downward — now that I love you will no longer suffice.
Is it not enough that you are the pulse of my heart — must there be more? Do you not remember when I quietly gave you all of me? Can you not hear my soul speaking in the gentle touch of my hand as it slides into yours, the exhale of my sigh as we kiss, or the echo of a thousand I love yous when our eyes meet?
I fear it is in the absence of words that the language of my heart sings; where fluency is found, and comfort offered. So if that day comes, my love, and I stand silent before your pain—don’t turn away. Listen to the pulse of my heart. Take my outstretched hand. Kiss my lips and taste my sigh. And then if that is not enough, look deep into the center of me and hear what mere words cannot express.
© Tarrant Smith 2019