Your words are too good for me (a poem)

Quay Brothers films at the end of a long-ish day. No particular images reflected in this poem, though… 

I carve out my own abstractions
cells in which I claim
to be impervious to everything

A phrase passes from your lips
ink stains the page
and feeling enters the space
between the armor and my skin

I turn up the noise that surrounds me
but your voice is the silence
I’ve been missing

Flailing about
for want of a word that means something
the rest I’ve endured

These are not tears in my eyes
but I’m not often given to tears
so you shouldn’t take that to mean anything

Your words are too good for me

(16 February 2018)