There are nights where the only sound in the room is of the fan swaying repeatedly from left to right and its purpose isn't to cool the dark room but to muffle the deafening sound of silence that grows every so often.
There are nights where the night light that shines a Carolina Blue serves as a lighthouse that a broken ship sails to but is unable to reach. The blue flashes each time it completes its orbit desperately calling out to the ship, to me.
There are nights where umber lakes that are most often frozen, preventing any ripples to form on the surface begin to melt and flood the dams that hold them in place.
Nights like those, I find myself at the bottom of the path of devastation. Watching as the water angrily rushes out of where it was being contained, bringing everything in its way with it, unwanted thoughts intertwined with the stampede that the frozen lakes caused.
Those nights where the rushing lakes then become angry waves of turbulent waters that when they reach the bottom, I stay and face the galloping waves that stumble into and over each other.
Then, it finally happens.
Embraced and submerged down into the deepest parts of them. My hearing is now muffled by the roaring of the waves on the surface. My hands extend towards the surface, lungs start stinging from air deprivation. No longer able to hold my breath I allow the salty waters to make home inside. Even underwater I feel the trail of tears on my cheeks.
In those nights the air in the room smelled of salt and felt like ice.
YOU ARE READING
A Look Inside: Words Unspoken
RandomI don't know, but here this is. Feedback is welcomed and appreciated. Thank you. Not Edited, just writing it as I go.
