the best things go without saying

The sound of your voice
is mesmerizing euphony
and brings joy to my ears
but leaves knives in my heart
how can one thing mean
opposites within itself
the oxymoron is both
painful but turns tears
of sadness into happy ones;
endorphins too are very
confusing things, they draw warmth
from your soul and it blankets
all the cold places, but is brought upon
by pain
so that is why when I am cold
I make myself bleed so I can feel fire
like flesh against flesh except I am alone
and the dark no longer scares me so
I close all my windows and try to whisper your name
except I can not, my voice falters
because somethings are best kept secrets
it is something I feel, and as you once said
the best things are the ones that go without saying
though I am selfish and
my spirit is starving with greed
so my hollow bones yearn to hear the
unspoken words, please forgive me
it just hurts too much, and your lips are not
there to kiss away my wounds
and the timeless waves of red keep turning
until my lungs drown and the devil tries to open
my door, while all my feelings slip through molded
planks, until at last I am succumbed in black
where I will search eternity for your hidden assurance
♠ ♠ ♠
This poem has no real significance with me as a person--it was not based off of feelings I have in my personal life. Instead it was simply brought to life by a nagging voice in my head.