Like Cotton Balls Dipped in Alcohol

Speaking to you is like being trapped
behind bulletproof glass.
I hear the words but the bullets don't come through.

Speaking to you is not like speaking at all.
The words we don't say fill up the silence like cotton balls dipped in alcohol.
One press to the gaping wound and all that's left is a burning sensation.

Speaking to you is like staring into the sun on a clear day,
little spots of gray peppering my vision before the inevitable blindness.