I fear the silence.
Silence makes
the hurt apparent. It
makes the hurt real,
tangible,
sharp. The hurt
surrounds me until
it's all I
feel, all I
know.
Silence makes the
lonliness worse.
It presses against
me, closing
in, holding tight.
The absence of
human touch, of
human warmth, is made
only more obvious by
the cold presence of
lonliness.
Silence makes
the voices louder. They
scream, shout, whisper,
taunt, laugh. They're all I
can hear.
They wrap
around me,
suffocate me,
until they
become real. Until
they become the only
real. There is
nothing else but
this biting noise
birthed from the
silence.
I fear the silence. It is
the thing
that will take my
life.
