Is the silence truly deafening?
Or is it just something to be said when there's an abrupt and eerie lack of communication?
The silence is freeing. In the silence I can think, process, and adjust. In the silence I find peace.
But yet once again, you shatter the silence with a smile, the knife you wield finding it's familiar target in my chest.
The silence remains a precious dream, blissful in theory but never truly an obtainable place.
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Incongruity
PoetryThis is where I will put my poems about my experiences. I just want somewhere to store them. If they resonate with someone, then I'm glad to have at least been a voice of familiarity in a world that feels so full of solidarity. Also I usually only w...
