The Gap

The Gap (8th November, 2011)

The silence that interrupts a conversation; where
the pins drop, no-one knows, but we have all felt
that strange sensation, that frozen moment of
hesitation. We start to fiddle with the salt; we
try not to meet eyes; we are aware no-one’s at
fault, and yet, we smile those smiles that replace
the urge to cry. And I’ve been listening with only
half my mind; I’ve crossed your bows too much,
and now I’m sensing a divide. Your angry words
they cut so deep, they penetrate my skin; I used
to think it was so thick, but these days, it’s growing
thin. I can’t fill the silence like I used to, with
throwaway words and laughter; I can’t fix the
broken bits, stop the disaster; I’ve grown too
fixed in my own mind; I’ve grown too blind. Do
you misunderstand me, or am I expressing myself
badly? Are we too opposite to gel, too polarized
to work out well? I’ve been falling down the gap,
the rabbit hole, the crevice, the crack; I’ve slid
inside the gap between your words, I’m caught out
between what’s been said and what’s been heard.
I can try to open out my mind, so that you may see
inside; I want to change the way I see, the way I
speak, the way I believe. And I can open up my
ears, I can try to shut my mouth, and if you’ve
the willingness to teach, I might learn from you.

Jennifer Pickup