Silence.
It's scary.
Not a little bit.
More like very.
It ignores the clueless.
It discloses no movement
And no matter how often we use it,
It still carries substantial newness.
Silence.
It is indeed definitive
But only the purveyor can define it.
It creates barriers
Without having us hide behind it.
It's easy to identify;
But it's source is hard to trace.
It often smothers us in confusion;
Leaving it's victims distraught and displaced.
Silence won't let you save face.
It reminds us that we know better.
It creates rifts between
What was once held together.
Silence will take no prisoners.
It won't respond to "Why?"
It will let whole days go by
While it's victim slowly dies.
It isn't shaken by cries.
It isn't fazed by tears.
It lashes out at what we hold dear
And feasts on our most profound fears.
Silence is unrelenting.
You can run away;
But there is no safe haven.
It will serve as an anchor
To all that is laden.
It is ambient in nature
Even when people are around.
It lends no solace or favor.
It just envelops and surrounds.
Silence is stark.
Dare I say:
Borderline sharp.
Singeing.
Seething.
Cleaving.
It cuts deep;
Incurring profuse bleeding.
So painful when it seeps.
Try to go to sleep
And insomnia will aid in the torture
Caused by this stealthy, clubbing blow
That is felt long after it's departure....
....if it ever leaves......
....I believe it lasts.....
....it will never see the past.
The thing about silence....
Is that we know how to use it;
Yet it feels like an act of violence
When we start to abuse it.
Maybe if we lose it,
Damaged hearts can look new.
I don't want silence to destroy us;
But I can't keep it from you. ♥
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