Kenopsia

by Janelle Ekpo

The room is quiet, 
Just silent
like me. 
The cobbled floors
And dusty drawers 
Hold patterns and whispers.
The light twists across the curtains,
And not a word, not a word for the hurtin’
is said. The room is a map of every soul it heard,
And every tear it held,
And yet no one beheld 
The scuff marks growing on the floor.

The room is quiet,
Just silent,
like me.
If you listen closely,
When the music plays softly,
You’ll hear my tears woven in,
‘Cause I can’t bear to have my universes 
All painted in verses, 
Or tied up in cold, dead words.
So I’ll sing to you with heart cries,
And unheard groans 
And lullabies 
With words that no one knows
And tunes that fly alone.

Then one day, when we’re healed,
One day when the curtains fall, and the lamp light fades,
When the masquerade 
And shows are gone,
We’ll see our lies
And the tears we cried,
And the one who went on farther,
Who bore the midnight harder,
Who died, because his Father
Saw the pain I made in you
and the pain that you caused me. 

This room is silent,
Just quiet,
like me,

But echoes, echoes of a cry
Peirce through the blinds,
Dazzle my eyes,
Tell me, “you’ve entered into Passions
Too deep to be your own...”

“And He knows.”

---

Janelle Ekpo is a writer, Substack author, and lover of Christ. She currently runs a small literary journal called A Song to Silence the World. Some of her interests include reading, writing, hoping, and singing till the break of day.