Tremors

The tremors have never been kind to us

They would shatter the world as we all bled

And as we sit here we shall not discuss

The kingdoms that seem to split in our head

I can recall drowning in reverie

And maybe you, too, are sitting somewhere

Your own ground breaking in mild memory

Deprived of telltale words to never share

And surely we all have our own fine print

An unseen narrative to hide away

Always refusing to let out a hint

Because now I know, and now I will say:

The tremors that bring the greatest lament

Are invisible, empty, and silent