You not answering is like:

a mom smoking while breastfeeding.

Or pulling a dog’s tail,

leaving the stove on,

wiping muddy feet on white carpet,

mistaking salt for sugar,

running through a stop sign,

showering with socks on,

or not hearing “I love you back”.

Like a slapped red stomach dive,

a bee stinging twice,

toes as fingers and fingers as toes,

and bleeding blue blood.

Or, a tea bag soaking in cold water,

rolling bible paper,

a snake without its safety of venom,

a sun that never sets,

and a girl without a smile.

My heart cut out,

my lung clenched,

eye whites reddened by tears, and

My lips chapped from teeth tears.

Why won’t you respond to me?