Silent Killer
Sitting quiet, still and stoic
Does not mean
That the stab wound did not sting
That it did not fester and infect
Since I have so long allowed it
To be painfully inflicted
Time and time again
In the same soft spot where it began
As I sat unmoved, sick and distracted
Doped by numbing non-reaction
An illusion of compassion
I have been strong, and have stayed silent
But I am human, spent, and sore
Benefit of doubt becoming septic
Soon to rot from inside out
If I do not get up off this cushion,
Turned doormat, and scream once more
While I cut out this infection
Starting at the source
-a.r.
Digital art: Silent Killer by Phillip Straub
sometimesihatemycat 
You are such a powerful writer
Thank you…sometimes these kinds of poems are the only way to let these powerful, and confrontational, feelings loose. I never know if they end up as powerful as they feel to write. Who knows….
Wow. I meant, WOW. I am most drawn in by the serenity of such a high-impact theme. You have achieved the silence of the title with a slow rhythm and a judicious choice of words like still, doped, numbing etc. I am inordinately impressed with this piece. Brilliant April!
Wow right back at ya. Thanks so much. Few people like these bloodier pieces, but I like writing them, and I am glad to know that someone likes reading them.
This is a very strong poem. To draw such an analogy between a physical and emotional pain takes a very deep insight. Your line of thought is amazing. This poem it’s perfect every word, every line there’s a reason for each one of them to be there and it conveys exactly what it wants to. Absolute. Awesome!! 🙂
Thanks again. I am glad you liked this one. Fewer people tend to like when I write like this one, but still it must be done, it must be let out. Thank you.