Silent spat.

There is no talk. At least,
Nothing meaningful is said.
There is far more talking,
Inside my head.
There is so much,
That I wish to share,
But you are never really here,
You are always there.
Heading away,
To do this and that.
So few words,
A silent spat.
Never saying,
What is on your mind,
So quick to pass judgement,
And one that's unkind.
So I push forward,
Alone and withdrawn,
I can't blindly accept it.
It's not in me to fawn.